


Carol of the Bells

by P_Artsypants



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Acrobat Robin, Angel Starfire, Angst, Comedy, Execution, F/M, Hunchback of Notre Dame AU, I don't know why it was never posted here, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Imprisonment, Jester Beast Boy, Racism, Religious Content, Resurrection, Romance, Torture, ethnic cleansing, major death, this is actually my favorite fic I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2018-11-11
Packaged: 2019-08-22 12:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 40,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16597685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P_Artsypants/pseuds/P_Artsypants
Summary: High in the dark Bell Tower of Notre Dame, there lives a mysterious bell ringer. Legend tells of the angel who fell from the sky, and the curse she bares. There are few who know her true identity though; her master, the priest, and the acrobat that performs on the streets below. Based loosely on 'The Hunchback of Notre Dame' RobxStar and slight BBxRae





	1. Listen to the Tale

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story back in 2013, but it still stands as one of my favorite fics I've written. I thought I posted it here YEARS ago, but I didn't! 
> 
> I don't want to give much away, but I do want to say the names in this are different from what your used to. They've been french-ified. Here's a key:
> 
> Richarde Serieux- Richard Grayson- Robin
> 
> Koriandre- Koriand'r- Starfire
> 
> Reverend Victor Stèle- Victor Stone- Cyborg
> 
> Garfield Creux- Garfield Logan- Beast Boy
> 
> Judge Slaed- Slade
> 
> (Raven comes in later, but her name is normal.) Enjoy!

Ding...dong...ding...dong...

The bells rang, indicating the time. The world was bustling about. Women carried screaming babes. Men were hard at work, just doing their best to put bread on the table. The city was far from perfect, but the people were content enough. Everyone had something to do, something to complain about. Everybody had somewhere to go, someone to talk to. Well, almost everyone.

A jester stood on the street corner. People of all different ages gathered around to watch him. He was juggling some oranges he bought from the market that morning.

"What do you get when you mix an elephant with a rhino?"

I chorus of 'I don't know's went up in the crowd.

"'Ell if I know!"

The children chuckled.

"Why do bulls wear bells?"

"Why?"

"Cause their horns don't work!"

The children laughed again.

The jester threw the oranges up into the air and then tossed them to the kids in the crowd. Everyone clapped as he bowed.

"Thank you! Thank you! You are too kind!" He sat down on a barrel. "Gather round! One and all! I have a story! A rare one, one that is of mystery and intrigue!"

Parents told their children to stay put and listen while they carried on business. The jester was trusted in the community and the children gathered daily to hear his stories.

"What story will you tell today?"

"Ah my dear boy! Have you ever heard the story of the Angel of Notre Dame?"

"There's an angel in the church?"

"Oh, there's many angels in the church, but one that is very real and very tangible. Some believe that she is not an angel at all, but a demon!"

The children drew back in fear.

"Tell the story!"

The jester drew up tall and spoke with a loud voice. "The night was dark and dreary! Rain poured from the sky! Families stayed safe inside their homes. At exactly the stroke of midnight, a great green streak lit up the sky, setting everything ablaze with an emerald glow."

The children ooo'ed and aahhh'ed.

"A child, no less than eight years old, fell and crashed into the ground. 'Twas an alien!"

"Hey! You it was an angel!"

"Shut your yap and let me talk boy!" He shook his fist at the child. "Anyways, the venerable Judge Slaed de Wilson was the first on the scene. His men gathered around the crevasse that had been formed from the impact. There must have been hundreds of men, thousands! She rose from the crater and began shouting obscenities and fighting with the soldiers. They outnumbered her, and she couldn't fight them all, so she fled!

"Judge Slaed was the only man brave enough to follow the creature, his stallion following quickly after. She ran to the church where she banged on the door for refuge, but the priest was not quick enough to let her in, and Slaed attacked! With one hit, she was unconscious on the ground!"

"Wait! If she took out a bunch of men, why couldn't she take out the judge?"

"Obviously she was too weak!" The jester clarified. "The judge moved to kill her, but was stopped by Rev. Victor Stèle! The Reverend condemned him to hell, for attempted murder, but told him if he cared for the alien, he would be free from his chains. And now she stays up in the bell tower, ringing the bells."

The children looked at him skeptically.

Another man approached the group, dressed in an all black skin tight uniform, decorated with a cobalt design across his chest. He wore a pert black and blue mask across his eyes.

"Garfield, that was the most butchered version of that story I have ever heard." He spoke.

The children cheered as the man took a seat among them. They clamored into his lap.

"Be gone acrobat! Leave the story telling to me! You wouldn't know a good story if it slapped you across the face!"

"I beg to differ." He clarified.

"How so?"

"I'm the one who told you the story in the first place." He smirked.

The jester visibly paled. "Oh...you were the one who told me?"

"Yes indeed, green bean." He gestured to the green uniform the jester wore.

"Green is so much better then blue! It's lively, warm, and refreshing! You look like a giant bruise!"

"I think Mr. Serieux looks very handsome in his suit." A little girl spoke.

"The lady has spoken." The acrobat smiled.

"Well, then, why don't you tell the story then?" He got off his barrel and left it open for him.

"Sure, but I'll sit among my fans."

Garfield growled.

"He was right, the night was dark and dreary, but it was snowing, not raining. The sky opened up and a heavenly green light broke forth from the clouds. The girl descended into the middle of town."

"Was it at midnight?"

"No, not particularly. Middle of the night, yes. The first person on the landing site was not Judge Slaed, but a young boy, about your age." He spoke to a ten year old.

"Who was the boy?"

"An orphan. He lived in the streets and was sleeping in the square when she landed."

"What did the girl look like?" Another child asked.

Richarde smiled. "Her hair was her most prominent feature. It reached down to her waist and waved like the sea. Even though it was dark, it seemed to be that sunlight was caught in her hair, as it glittered like a flame. The color was of a rose, red, deep and luscious."

The girls pulled at their blonde hair in envy.

"Her tiny pale figure was adorned with a white dress that fell off the shoulders. She sat up in the snow, and looked at him with pure forest green eyes. No pupils, no iris, no white, just pure green."

"Is that why they thought she was an alien?"

"Maybe...the boy approached her carefully. They examined each other in curiosity. Judge Slaed suddenly appeared with three men. Not hundreds. Not thousands. Three."

The children all looked at Garfield as he rubbed the back of his head.

"She was scared, the boy could tell and he reached out for her. She spoke in a tongue very foreign, 'Slugma.'"

"What does that mean?"

"We aren't sure, but I think it means 'help.' So she ran from the men, pulling the boy behind her."

"So she didn't beat up the men?"

"No, she only shoved one out of the way. Possessing strength of a full grown man."

"They ran to the church?"

"Almost. The young girl led, not sure where they were going. She was barefooted, and had to run through the snow."

"Did her feet fall off?" A little boy asked.

Richarde chuckled. "No, her feet didn't fall off. In fact, they barely touched the ground. It was like she was flying."

"She was an angel!" One of the girls sitting in his lap grasped the fabric on his chest.

"Maybe."

"What happened next?"

"Well, the boy pulled the girl into an entryway of a house, where they could hide. He tried to ask her questions, but he couldn't because she kissed him."

"EEEEEWWWW!" The boys cried unanimously.

"AAAAAWWWW!" The girls swooned in unison.

"Why would she do a thing like that?"

"I don't know, but afterwards, she spoke perfect French!"

"Wow! How weird!"

"I bet she grossed the boy out!"

Richarde chuckled again. "No, he enjoyed it."

"What a weird kid!"

"Then what happened, Mr. Serieux?"

"Well, he told the girl the back route to the church. And he went on ahead to create a distraction. Unfortunately, judge Slaed predicted this and went to catch the two before they made it to sanctuary.

"It was only until the boy heard her shriek that he realized something was wrong. He ran to the cathedral, only to find his new friend lying in the snow. The judge commanded his horse to rise up, but before the beast could trample the child, the priest came out and stopped the affair."

"Was it Rev. Stèle?"

"Yes sir, the same Reverend that pastors there now. Although, at that time, he was the age I am now."

"How old are you?" The little girl in his lap asked.

"20, if you must know."

"Wow, that's old."

"Keep going!"

"Oh! Well, the little girl was knocked unconscious and laid freezing in the snow. The reverend took her into his arms and turned to the judge in anger.

"'You claim to be a judge, a man of respect and dignity, and yet, you threaten to kill a child! On the steps of Notre Dame herself!' he yelled.

"'It is not wrong, your grace, that child has fallen from the sky, an angel kicked out of heaven, a demon!' the judge tried to justify.

"'How do you know? Our Lord may have sent her for a greater purpose, but you! You tried to spill her innocent blood! You may tell yourself what you are doing is right, but you can never escape God's sight!'

"The judge, for once in his life was humbled. He realized what he had done and was fearful. The reverend told him to repent and ask forgiveness, and then take care of the child. He did so, making a home for her in the bell tower, her strength making her ideal for ringing the bells. Because of her pure green eyes, she was named Koriandre."

"Like the plant?"

"Precisely. To this day, Koriandre lives in the tower, alone. The boy never saw her again."

"Why doesn't he just go up and see her?"

Richarde sighed. "The judge is...overprotective of his charge. He only allows the reverend up to see her. But some days, when you enter the church, if you listen very carefully, you can hear her singing."

"I want to go listen to Koriandre sing!" The little girl shouted, standing up.

"Yeah! Me too!"

"Me three!"

All the children ran in a mass to the church.

Richarde stood up, dusting himself off. "Sorry Gar, I didn't mean to steal your crowd."

"Nah, it's alright. I didn't mean to steal your story. From now on, I'll have you tell it." He looked over to the cathedral. "I better go and look after them. Victor likes kids, but there's a lot more then he's used to."

"While you're there, you can pray for an easy winter. It's already getting cold out, hard enough sleeping in that shack at night."

"What about all that coinage you've got saved up? Why don't you buy a new house?"

"No way Gar, I'm saving up to travel the world, performing in Milan, London, Delhi, and even Hong Kong for the Emperor."

"There's a time when dreams become just that, dreams. If you want to do this, you better think of a plan!"

"I have a plan! It's a surprise!"

"You're crazy Serieux!"

"Not as much as you Creux!" He called over his shoulder. He went back to his designated street corner, one over from the jester's. His wooden pole leaned against a building, and he grabbed it, sticking it into a crack in the street.

"Hup!" He breathed as he hoisted himself to stand on the top. He balanced perfectly on one foot. The people of Paris were drawn to the artist and his death defying feats. He made it look so easy, simply perched up on the stick, happily chatting away with the bustling town folk. On the outside, he looked like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Oh come on Richarde! When are you going to ask my daughter to marry you?" An old woman asked as she threw a silver coin into his pot of earnings. Next to the pot, he has his modest coat lying out. His closest and dearest friend laid on it, a small gray tiger stripped cat that he named Silkie.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Harceler, my heart has already been claimed."

"And who, may I ask, is the lucky girl?"

"The singing voice of Notre Dame."

"Ugh! You and half of all the men in Paris! Honestly, I think it's the wind that whistles and resonates through the bells."

"Maybe madam, maybe." Richarde looked to the cathedral, a rush of loneliness coursing through him. As lonely as he was, he had friends and neighbors, but there was a part of his heart that went out to her...she had no one.

Up in the bell tower, nimble feet tiptoed up in the rafters. Her fiery red hair dangled down passed the wood and danced in the wind. Koriandre was in her afternoon routine of cleaning the tower. As much as she hated it, the judge would not allow any animals in her living area, and forced her to check the beams for nests. She relocated them outside of course, but she wished that the small animals could join in chorus with her.

She sang as she worked, her voice, like the wind, multiplied as it echoed through the tower and the bells. She was unaware of the audience she had gathered down below.

"Down in the green and shady bed, a modest violet grew. Its stalk was bent; it hung its head, as if to hide from view." Each note was practiced, precise, memorized. It was her song, fitting her perfectly. She read the poem in a book, and the notes came naturally as she recited it.  
"And yet it was a lovely flower, its colours bright and fair. It might have graced a rosy briar, instead of hiding there."

She sat down on a beam, her examination complete. "Yet there it was, content to bloom in modest tints arrayed. And there it spreads its sweet perfume, within the silent shade."

She made her way down, crossing beams, planks, ladders, and steps before ending up in her 'room'. One wall contained a narrow doorway onto a bridge connecting both towers. She walked out upon it and gazed at the townspeople down below.

"Then let me to the valley go, this pretty flower to see. That I may also learn to grow in sweet humility."

She sighed, and then came back into her space.

Two large windows looked out over the city, both on one wall. In front of these windows sat a table, displaying a miniature of the city she watched over. It even contained the people she observed. She had the baker with his cart, the blacksmith with his hammer, and the jester, adorned completely in green. She had spent many hours on her city, but there was one thing that it was missing.

The acrobat.

He was too quick. His body rarely was in a conceivable position to recreate. But she couldn't help but watch his tricks, wishing to see them all done in person. She shook her head at her thoughts.

"I should not be thinking of such things...still..."

"What things, Koriandre?" A dark voice asked behind her.

She stood up quickly and curtsied. "Good Afternoon Master." She said quietly.

"Hello child." He replied. He took the seat she previously occupied and she was forced to sit on the ground. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Yes sir. The sunrise was beautiful."

"As will be the sunset." He began to take the food out of the basket he brought with him. Koriandre fetched the plates, hers made of clay, his of silver.

A long stretch of silence reigned as she ripped her bread.

"Do you wish to tell me something?" He eyed her.

She set her food on her plate and played with her hair. "Father Victor told me yesterday...that I have a lovely voice, and he wishes I could join the choir."

"Koriandre..." He huffed.

"I will not leave the church! And it would only be for mass!"

"What have I taught you?" He asked sternly.

She looked to the ground in shame. "I am not a human; I do not have a soul. My desires are of my sin and disobedience. I am only a tool, and no one must know me."

"And so it would be wrong for you to sing to a God that you cannot truly worship. People would get angry, chaos would break out. I'm only looking out for your best interest, my dear."

She knew the subject should be dropped. "Thank you, master. You are good to me..."

He stood up. "Grab your cloak. We have an errand to run."

Koriandre's face paled. "On such a lovely day?"

"Such is life. Come."

She threw her thick black cloak around her and pulled up her hood. She covered her face with a mask, beige in colour, laced with black and shaped like a large bird beak. She looked like an apparition, like death itself. She hated this job, and wished that he had never found out about her abilities.

He mounted his horse, pulling the two-tone mask over his face. She rode side saddle behind him. They passed the jester, who stopped juggling as they went by, and the acrobat. Koriandre, for her own sake, had never let her eyes wander while they were out like this, but this may have been her only time to look upon the face of her missing piece.

Richarde only saw two green slits glowing behind the mask, but he knew who it was. He sent her a smile, and she quickly looked away.

Across town was the slums. The sickest people lived in shacks, dying of diseases and infections. This part of the city was on the edge of the Seine, where garbage was flung to float downstream. The whole area was filled with moaning and crying.

"Court of Miracles, indeed." Slaed scoffed under his breath.

They reached a hut, the door open with a black flag hanging in the entryway. This was a system that had been put in place after Koriandre's 'ability' had been found out. It was now frequent, and people came to the church asking for her assistance.

Not that they knew who she was.

Slaed had concocted a lie around her identity. She was simply called 'The Releaser.' People fell silent in the streets when they saw the black cloaked figure with the face like a raptor like face. It was rumored if you touched her; your soul would be taken.

They walked into the hut where a man laid on a bed, his breathing harsh. A family gathered around him with tears.

"My good people, your prayers have been answered. Your dear loved one will be free from pain." He gestured Koriandre to move ahead.

She was not to talk, not a sound. She only needed to reach out and touch his face slightly. A glittering green glow came from her hand and then a vapor from his lips.

The man stopped breathing and relaxed. The wife of the man fell to her knees and wept.

"Let us go." Slaed spoke to the girl with no sympathy.

Koriandre shed but a few tears for the man, and then was whisked away. Back at the tower, the death bell knelled thrice.


	2. A Lovely Flower

It was a warm and bright morning. The city was busier than normal. Koriandre knew the moment that her eyes opened, that today was her favorite day of the year. The Festival de la Beautè. Every year, she would look down and watch as the crowd nominated the prettiest faces in Paris to stand on a stage in front of everyone. They would ask questions to the contestants and have them perform with their God given talents. From that, the crowd would cheer for their winner who would get flowers and a small crown. She knew that if she participated, she may not win, but she still longed to be up there, a part of the crowd.

She looked down onto the city, where men were working hard to get the stage set up. To her delight, the acrobat was busily working with the men. He was shimming up poles and tying ropes. She sighed as she watched him. She was jealous of his freedom, just able to do whatever he wanted.

"You are so lucky my friend."

"Who is lucky?" Slaed gripped her shoulder. She jumped.

"Master! You frightened me!"

"I apologize, now who where you speaking to?"

"I was speaking to myself, but in context to the acrobat. He is the only one I do not have in my miniature. Please, what is his name?"

"I don't have the time to ask beggars for their names."

"He is a beggar?"

"Of course. Descent people do not perform on street corners."

"Oh..." She sighed. Her gaze remained on the town below.

"Something troubles you?"

"As I have stately previously, he is the only figure I have not in my replica of the city...I was wondering if I could attend the festival to observe him...of course I would wear a guise, and maybe while I was down there, I could participate in the competition?" She smiled hopefully.

Instead of flat out refusing her, he decided to play with her. "Why would you want to enter such a superficial contest?"

"I have often noticed that my reflection in the mirror and the windows is quite pleasing to the eye. I think I may have a chance to win."

"My sweet Koriandre, what would you even do if you won?"

She paused a long time. "Well, I would file the memory away, just something to remember. So I would be content up here and not be so curious."

He seemed to think about it for a moment. Then he crossed his arms. His gray eye narrowing at her, the other hidden behind an eye patch. "I will save you the embarrassment. You would not win the pageant, nor even make a good impression. Your hair is out of control, and an unnatural color. Your eyes are buggish and strange. Your skin is too dark, and your figure is scrawny and disproportionate. You lack the proper etiquette to be a lady, and you do not even dress properly. Besides, what would you do for the talent portion?"

"I-I thought I might sing."

"You mean squawk? Please. You will regret even asking me to go." He turned to leave.

"Well, may I go without participating?"

"No." He shot her down. He said nothing else, and then left.

Instead of being sad, she was angry. "He barely looks at me when he's here. What does he know? He is not even married!" She looked in the mirror at her brazen reflection. "I am not hideous. I look different from other humans, but not extremely."

For the first time in a long time Koriandre felt a true strong feeling of revolt. "I will show him. I'll participate in the contest. I may not win, but I will not be ridiculed!" She smiled and went to her 'closet'. Koriandre did not own any fancy dresses, or anything...appropriate in the first place. Everything was rags, being short and revealing on her form. The only thing she could wear was her black cloak.

"I cannot go out in this! They will recognize me as the Releaser. And Slaed will spot me immediately."

She thought a moment before grabbing a sash and stealing down the stairs.

Notre Dame was relatively empty, since most people were setting up for the festival. A monk and a friar walked the aisles. She spotted the reverend over in the corner, relighting candles.

"Victor!" She whispered sharply.

He turned in surprise. "Child! What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack or get yourself in trouble!?"

"I need your help." She slipped through the shadows to where he was. "I'm going out for the day."

"No." He said.

"Please Victor!"

"No! You know being out in public is a bad idea." Victor was of African origin. His father was an archdeacon and Victor followed in his footsteps. Well, after his days as a solider ended with a wooden leg and a glass eye. His build was large, strong, not at all like a small holy man image that was associated with the title. Koriandre liked him and he treated her like a younger sister.

"Why? Because I am strange looking? People will ridicule me?" She asked earnestly.

"No...no, not at all. I'm afraid Slaed would punish you."

She looked at him with a soft smile. "That is why I need your help. I want to disguise myself so he will not see me."

He mulled it over, arguing with himself. He gave in. "Come with me."

They moved quickly through the church, avoiding the monks, until they reached a closet.

"This is where we keep the robes for the monastery. You'll want a small..." He disappeared into the curtain-like fabric of the robes. "Ah ha!" He shouted from within. He emerged, an off color robe within his grasp. "This way, Slaed won't recognize the robes from here. It's perfect!"

"Please do not say that until I am back in the Cathedral this evening."

He handed her a pouch with some coins in it. "It's not much, but it should buy you lunch."

"Thank you very much my friend." She hugged him.

Tying the sash around her waist, to further her disguise, she secured the coin bag and went to the door.

"Be careful, and don't talk to strangers. If for any reason you want to come back earlier, the church will be open. I can't leave, so make sure you don't get in trouble."

"I can handle myself. Slaed underestimates me; I am strong enough to ring the bells, am I not?"

"True. Well, God be with you."

"Farewell." She pulled up her hood and departed through the door, for the first time without an escort.

Richarde was up in the air, above the crowd, hanging curtains. Garfield kneeled below, hammering the stage into place. They were both unaware of the new guest joining the crowd, until Richarde saw her small frame weaving through the people. He narrowed his eyes.

Koriandre looked over in his direction. He smiled when he saw the glowing green eyes under the hood. She looked away quickly.

Hooking his ankles together, Richarde swung upside down on the line. "Hey Gar!"

"Haah!" Garfield was surprised and dropped the hammer on his foot. He jumped up and down grabbing it in pain. "Got! Dan! Druffandsomeofititches!"

Richarde paid little attention to his friend's pain. "Koriandre's here."

"What? No way, where?!"

"She's over there, wearing a monks robe."

"A monk? Like 'Missa sicut lilium' thwack 'Miserere inter spinas' thwack?" He interpreted whacking himself in the face with a board.

"Yeah sure."

"How do you know it's her?"

"She'll look over here in a few minutes; you can see her eyes under the hood." He pulled himself up to the line again.

Garfield looked for the mysterious beauty when she turned around. "She's looking at you, Rich."

A sappy smile crossed the acrobat's face.

"Dude, you're obsessed."

"I am not!"

"You should ask her out!"

"No!"

"Give me one solid reason why not."

"She's stuck up there," he pointed to the bell tower, "and I live down here."

"Not today. You're both on the same playing field."

"I bet she snuck out."

"She's looking again."

"Knock it off Gar!" The acrobat laughed. "I couldn't stand just being with her for one day."

"She drags you halfway across the city, kisses you senseless and then leaves you. How romantic." A shoe dropped onto his head. "Ouch! There's nothing wrong with the truth you know!"

Koriandre had gotten her lunch, some foreign meal, bread and meat smothered with a yellow condiment. She enjoyed it immensely. Throughout the festival, she kept her eyes on the acrobat as he worked on the stage, watching him until he disappeared.

"I still wish I could see him up close."

"Who are you referring to? The acrobat?"

Koriandre jumped a mile off the ground. But she calmed when she saw the jester smiling toothily at her.

"Please do not do that, you have almost given me a heart attack."

"Sorry, but  _do_  you want to see him?"

A wistful look came over her face. "That is why I came."

Garfield rubbed his hands. "Excellent! Come with me! I will show you the perfect spot!"

"You are not doing the tricking of me, are you?"

"Absolutely not! Look, our mutual friend wants you to be up, front and center."

"The-the acrobat?! But how does he-..."

"Just trust me." He smiled.

Koriandre followed him silently to a place where two overhead cables crossed.

"Stay here. I have to go, but the show will start soon."

"Wait!" She called grabbing the fabric of his tunic.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." And he slipped into the crowd. People started to come around her. Soon she was drowned in a sea of people. Standing on her tiptoes, she peered over the crowd and was able to see the Stage. Her eyes darted around the area, looking for her guardian. She found him in a booth raised a tad above the crowd, but close to the stage. He was a good distance away and was paying no attention to the crowd.

A drum roll started up and the crowd grew quiet. "Ladies and gentlemen! Boys and girls! Let the festival..." The curtains rose up, and the stage was dark. "...begin." The jester spoke in a dark voice.

Figures in black robes rhythmically dredged onto the platform, singing as they went. "Cum sanctu spiritu in Gloria dei patrese..." Their voices were quiet and sent chills up Koriandre's spine. She heard the monks singing daily, but this was different.

When they were all on the stage, they lined up and faced the crowd, finishing their song. Then their voices halted, in a split second, the robes were twirled and revealed people underneath in various colors and costumes. Some jumped out into the audience, while others remained on stage and did simple flips. Koriandre stood on her toes again, searching for the acrobat.

"Welcome one and all to Paris! The city of lovers!" The jester jumped up on the stage. "I am your humble host, the magnificent, the amazing, and not to mention handsome, Garfield Cruex! Master of laughs!"

The crowd chuckled at his ironic title.

"This year is guaranteed to be the best year ever! So please everyone, put on your prettiest smiles and exhibit your daughters! The beauty pageant will be beginning soon. But first..." Another drum roll went up. "You've seen him performing on street corners; you saw his family when they performed in the Cirque du Soleil! I'm pleased to present our friend and neighbor, the heartthrob of the city! Richarde Serieux!"

Koriandre looked in excitement as a man bolted over the back of the stage and landed on the balls of his feet. He wore green tights and a red tunic with a yellow design over it. His arms were bare to the cool fall air. His shaggy black locks fell into his face.

The crowd cheered as he bowed. Garfield tossed him a pole which he caught with ease. He spun it around a few times and let it spin over his shoulders, and then he bolted up into the sky. The crowd gasped in amazement as he caught a wire and flung back up into the air.

Koriandre stared in awe as the acrobat flipped effortlessly from rope to rope. The audience gasped when he pretended like he was going to fall.

When he got to the spot above Koriandre, he stopped and crossed one leg over the other, and put a fist under his chin. He appeared to be thinking about something. Koriandre looked up in wonder.

A smile crossed his face and, much like what he done with Gar, he hooked his ankles and swooped down. Koriandre shrieked as she came face to face with her target. She didn't dream she'd be so close!

"Why hello there!" He smirked. He slipped his hand under her chin and kissed her. The crowd cheered and wolf whistled. "Excuse me." He nodded before swinging back up on the line. He left the girl frozen in shock.

Koriandre could hardly pay attention, her hands covered her mouth as if she let go, the kiss would fly away.

Richarde touched down on the stage. He raised his arms to the crowd and bowed once. When bent over he noticed that the judge sat with his arms crossed, a frown on his face.

This would not do.

Richard twisted his torso and spun on his heels to face Slaed. "Hey Judy! Why so serious?"

Slaed huffed in reply.

The younger man did three consecutive front flips and landed in front of the judge. "Come on, give us a smile!" He jumped and landed in the man's lap, his arm around him in mockery. "Even an ugly person like you would look better with a smile!"

Slaed moved to throttle the young man, but Richarde scurried out of the way. "I'll have you thrown in prison!"

"You'll have to catch me first!" The boy chuckled.

"Fiend! Scoundrel!" Slaed shouted as he jumped from his seat.

"Hypocrite!" Richarde bent forward and peered between his legs. "I bet you couldn't catch me even you tried!"

"You can't get me to play into your games, gypsy!"

"Your words hurt." He blew a raspberry at him.

Slaed waved him off and sat back down.

Richarde cart wheeled back to the stage and bowed again. The crowd went wild with applause. Koriandre was laughing jovially, loving the entertainment at her tormentor's expense.  
Gar came up on stage, still laughing. He clapped a hand on his friend's back. "Well Richarde, that was quite a show! I bet you made someone's night!"

"Well I sure hope so." He said, his cheeks tinting pink in embarrassment.

"Alright folks, the pageant will begin soon, so get ready. Our nominators are searching the crowd now for the contestants!"

"I should leave." Kori said to herself. "I have gotten what I wanted and more. I have drawn enough attention to myself and master is becoming very angry. There will be no mercy if I am caught."

She started to weave her way through the crowd, her hood covering her face.

Unfortunately, her escape was a failure as she smacked into a body.

"Now where do you think you are going?"

She looked down. Green tights. Oh snap.

"I must be leaving."

"Leaving?! But the contest hasn't even started yet!"

She tried to push pass him, but he kept blocking her path. "I am well aware. Please, I need to go."

"I think what you need to do is turn around and go up on that stage."

"Audacity!"

"It is, isn't it?" He grabbed her arm and pulled her along.

"Please do not put me up there! I do not wish to deal with the consequences!"

Richarde stopped. He turned and lowered to her level. "What is the point of living if you aren't living life to the fullest? Besides, I wouldn't have picked you if I didn't think you could win."

She bit her lip. She did want to rebel; prove to Slaed that she was worth more than he accounted her for. Shyly, she slipped her hand into his and let him lead her through the crowd.  
Her heart began to speed up; every step onto the stage was agonizing. She swallowed thickly. While she passed, she glimpsed at the other contestants, all of which wore veils or hoods. Counting her, there were ten girls total. Koriandre stood at the very end, the last contestant.

"Alright everyone, we have our nominees!" The host shouted. The crowd quieted. "Up first..." He removed her veil with a flourish of motion.

A beautiful blonde was revealed. She batted her blue eyes in innocence. The crowd whistled and made cat calls.

Koriandre's heart sank. This other girl was absolutely gorgeous. And it was only the first contestant!

The next hood fell back to show brunette curls and sultry eyes. The next was a black haired doll with a radiant smile.

Koriandre became more nervous. The only way she would get through this in one piece was if she won, it didn't look like she was going to. Her anger rose at the young man looking smugly at the other girls. He dragged her up here, and now he was going to make a fool of her! A few stray tears escaped her eyes as she imagined Slaed dragging her back to the tower gloating that he was right and then beating her back into place. She still had time, she could run.

She attempted to, but Richarde's hands clamped on her shoulders. "Stage fright huh? Don't worry."

The tears rolled faster.

The crowd was ecstatic. Apparently the last girl had been exquisite, but Koriandre didn't have the heart to look.

"And now for our last contestant!"

Koriandre clenched her fists and bit her lip. She felt the hood leave her head as sunshine graced her face. A huge gasp went up through the crowd, and then all was silent. Dead silent.

"My master was right...I am ugly." She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn't work.

The jester whistled. "Wow, that's going to be really...really hard to beat." He looked at her closer. "Damn Serieux! You always find the pretty ones, but this, this is like a whole different level!"

She relaxed minutely, looking over at the jester and then to her new friend.

"I told you." He smiled.

She smiled back and the crowd went nuts.

Slaed was boiling in anger. He wanted to do nothing more than run up there and haul her back to the tower, but he had his reputation to think about. No one could know who she was, but he couldn't pull her away now, the people would be furious. So he sat back and strategized.

"It's time for the questioning part of the contest! This will be done by our flexible friend here."

Richarde stepped away from Koriandre and progressed to the front. One could tell he didn't really care about the other girls, because he asked flimsy questions.

"What is your favorite color?"

"I love all the colors!"

"What is your favorite season and why?"

"Summer because it is warm!"

"Why is the sky blue?"

"Because God made it like that?"

It was almost unfair; none of the girls were getting questions that would help them win. Richarde stopped in front of Koriandre, and acted the same as he had with the others, but the question was deeper, more probing.

"If you could have just one thing in the world, what would it be?"

She looked over at Slaed who was white knuckling his chair. Content, she folded her hands in front of her.

"Nothing."

Richarde was taken aback. Most girls would have said a warm house or world peace, he at least expected her to say freedom. He was not expecting this in the least.

"Nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing. With the way today has gone, I am content just being out and among the people. I am very happy. If I die tonight, it will be with no regrets."

Everyone was silent. Again. The other girls cursed Koriandre internally.

"Okay! Onto the talent segment!"

Koriandre shrunk back, definitely not wanting to do this part.

Three girls sang, one of those was absolutely horrible and made Richarde go cross eyed. Another four played instruments, not too badly, but the fiddler was exceptional. Still another girl juggled, and the ninth made bird calls. Koriandre had to admit she was very accurate.

Gar came up next to Koriandre. "And what will you be doing for us this evening?"

She gulped. "I was thinking of singing, but there have been so many others..." Truth be told, she had believed Slaed about her singing.

"You want to sing? Go sing!" He smiled as he pushed her forward.

The crowd watched in anticipation.

"D-down in t-t-the green..." She gulped. Her nerves were racked with everyone staring at her. Smiles crawled across their faces. She took a step back.

Richarde placed a hand on her shoulder. "Close your eyes." He whispered. She did as he commanded.

She imagined being back in the church, her sanctuary.

"Down in the green and shady bed, a modest violet grew." She started. Realization started to dawn on everyone. "Its stalk was bent; it hung its head as if to hide from view. And yet it was a lovely flower, its colors bright and fair. It might have graced a rosy briar instead of hiding there." Her courage grew and she raised her voice. "Yet there it was, content to bloom in modest tints arrayed. And there it spreads its sweet perfume within the silent shade. Then let me to the valley go, this pretty flower to see. That I may also learn to grow in sweet humility."

She ended and opened her emerald eyes to the world.

The audience praised her, finally having a face to go with the voice of Notre Dame.

Tears came to her face again as the crowd cheered for her. She had never been this happy in her life.

"Well I think it's safe to say who the winner is this year! The Angel of Notre Dame!" Applause. "What's your name beautiful?"

"Koriandre." She spoke crisply.

"Give it up for your new beauty queen! Koriandre!"

Despite the jealousy of the other girls, they were all happy for her.

"Koriandre! Koriandre!" They chanted.

She looked over to her beloved acrobat and smiled at him. "Thank you!"

"Silly girl, I didn't do anything." Then he slipped away.

Slaed called one of his soldiers over, putting his plan into action. "Start telling the crowd that Koriandre is the Releaser."

"But sir..."

"No buts." He said sternly. He tapped his fingers on his chin and let a wick smile appear on his face.

Gar bestowed the crown and bouquet upon the young girl. She smiled radiantly, that is, until the first rock was thrown.

"It's the Releaser!" Someone shouted.

Koriandre stopped in her tracks, horror scrawled over her face. The cheering turned to hissing and booing.

"Hey hey! Calm down!" The jester tried to get control of the situation.

"Move it kid!" A man grabbed his ankle and pulled him off the stage.

"Witch!"

"Demon!"

Stones and rotten fruit were hurled at her. The crowd had surrounded the stage, there was nowhere to run. She shielded herself, trying to stop the blows, but it still hurt. A lasso caught her neck and forced her to fall down.

"Tie her to a stake!"

"Burn her!"

"Drown her in the lake!"

Koriandre's tears of joy turned to sorrow. A part of her knew that this was going to happen. It was as if it was impossible for her to be completely happy. Her tiara rolled off the stage and her bouquet lied forgotten on the ground.

Men came up on the stage and surrounded her, tying her arms and legs together. She fought back, but was only so strong.

"Stronger then she looks!"

"Secure her!"

Garfield shook the mud from his clothes and looked in horror. He could care less if the girl was so called evil. She couldn't live in the church if she was. He hurried to find Richarde. He wouldn't forgive himself if Koriandre got hurt.

The strange bell ringer kneeled on the stage, tucking her head into the crook of her elbows for protection.

Suddenly, everything stopped. The ridicule, the stones, everything. It was just deathly quiet. Koriandre peered up to see someone standing in front of her. He wore a black skin tight suit and faced the crowd.

"My fellow people! What are you doing? What are you thinking?! This girl has done nothing wrong!"

"She's the Releaser!"

"Prove it!" The acrobat shouted back. "What evidence do you have for this? You are acting off of a silly rumor!" He clenched his fists and raised his voice even louder. "You are all like the people of Jerusalem! She is your queen, deserving praise and respect one moment, and then hated and scorned not but a few moments later! Our Lord had at least a few days!" He calmed slightly. "Is this how far we have fallen? We would rather see an innocent life taken then a beautiful girl praised. And for what? Someone who would just be following orders."

"Get off your soapbox, peasant!" The judge shouted from his booth.

"And you!" Richarde pointed at the man, not heeding his order. "You are worst of all! You are her guardian! Her protector! You are the closest thing to a father that she has and you just sit there and watch as she is falsely accused! And why? Because you care more about yourself than anyone else!"

Slaed laughed. "Boy, I don't even know that wench!"

Richarde scowled. He kneeled next to Koriandre and took out a handkerchief from his suit. "I'm sorry. This was not my intent, this wasn't supposed to happen." He wiped her face clean of the rotten fruit and tears.

The crowd slowly dispersed, seeing their entertainment had come to an end.

Richarde cut her bindings and helped her to her feet. But before he could say anything to her, she fled from his arms back to the church. With a sigh, Richarde sat down on the stage.

"I really messed up."

Always the faithful companion, Garfield sat next to his friend. "Yes, yes you did."

Richarde sulked.

"Look, why don't you go up and talk to her? Let her know she has someone down here to trust, someone who's looking out for her." He patted his shoulder. "One of us does at least."

Richarde saw Slaed go into the church, most likely to yell at her.

He stood up. "You're right Gar." He grabbed the bouquet on the ground and headed towards the church.

"Of course I'm right, I'm always right."


	3. Content to Bloom

Reverend Victor was tending to his duties, keeping one eye out for Koriandre. He had heard the chanting outside, but it was unintelligible through the stone walls. Nevertheless, the priest was worried about his little sister. Suddenly, the door swung open and in came his charge. She was covered in pulp of rotten fruit and blood trickled down her cheeks and arms.

"Koriandre..."

"Slaed was right. I am strange. People hate me and I will never be accepted!" She shouted as tears came again.

"I'm so sorry..." He moved to comfort her, but she fled up the stairs. Victor sighed.

A few minutes later, Slaed came in. "Is the creature back in the tower?"

"What happened?" Vic asked angrily.

Slaed was impassive. "Nothing that she didn't see coming. Now if you will excuse me, a lesson needs to be learned. Oh, and I won't penalize you for lending her that robe. She tricked you, after all." He walked menacingly to the stairs as Victor stared back. The whole situation was gruesome.

The door opened once again and in came Richarde. A bouquet in his hands and his cat at his feet. Victor gave a half smile.

"Richarde, my friend. It's been too long."

"Sorry I haven't attended for awhile. Winter's coming and I'm trying to save up for a warmer uniform."

"I understand. It's not your church attendance that saves you." Silkie rubbed against the man's wooden leg. "Hello there."

"Uh...is Koriandre here?" Richarde asked nervously.

"You know you aren't supposed to go up there, how many times have we gone over this?"

"I know, I know. But I just want to make sure she's alright...and apologize."

"You didn't cause this did you?"

"It was an accident! I swear!"

"No swearing in the church."

"I affirm!"

Victor simpered. "Slaed is up with her right now. You will have to wait until he leaves."

"What is he doing?"

"It depends. He may be yelling at her, or comforting her for a false sense of security."

"I take it you don't like him."

"I despise him."

"A man of God despising another man of God?"

"Everyone sins. But he's a Pharisee, I'm sick of his 'Holier than thou' attitude. The only reason he has position is because of money."

"I've never seen you so angry."

"Kori did nothing to deserve the life he gives her!"

"So you will let me go talk to her?" He asked hopefully.

Victor thought a moment. "She's already met you. I can't see any more harm in it. But it is best to wait."

"And what am I supposed to do in the mean time?"

"There's someone in here who loves to listen." Vic said vaguely before walking away.

"Oh." Richarde realized, looking at the stained glass. "Hey. It's been awhile." He scratched his head and folded his hands, taking a seat in a pew. Silkie jumped up next to him. "It's not that I'm not grateful for everything that you've given me, I am! But...lately, the feeling of loneliness I told you earlier has been growing. I don't know why, I mean, I have lots of friends and I'm happy, but...I don't know. Maybe I just felt strange talking to you when I felt this way. Anyway, this prayer shouldn't be about me, it's for Koriandre. Please comfort her in the pain of today. And I'm sure she's even lonelier then I am. I ask that you care for her, since nobody else will. If it's in your will...could you let us be together? If not...take the affection I feel for her away." He blushed as he realized what he had said. "Uh...tell mom and dad I said hi. Amen."  
As he looked up, he noticed Slaed coming down the stairs.

He narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here, peasant?"

Richarde frowned at the man. "God listens to everyone."

Slaed chuckled. "Whatever you wish to believe." He left the church, slamming the door behind him and startling a monk.

"Come on." The acrobat spoke to his feline. He gripped the handle and pulled.

"Richarde," Vic called from across the room. "If you break her heart, I'll break your neck."

"I'll try my best. You have my word as a gentleman." And he headed up the steps.

"Oh! And one more thing!" Victor called after him. "She's sort of...touchy. Just warning you!"

Richarde merely raised an eyebrow and continued on his way.

The stairs spiraled around a column. The corridor was dark, a torch on a wall up above. He climbed his way up to the top. There, the ceiling reached high, hidden by multiple layers of bells. Everything was so incredibly clean. The bronze glittered in the light of the setting sun; there were no cobwebs in sight. A narrow walkway led to a staircase to a second level. He could see the setting sun through a window up there. A mobile of stained glass sparkled and sent rays of iridescent light across the surfaces. He climbed the stairs and found himself in a living space. Next to him, a red curtain hung on both sides. He peeked behind one to see what looked like a bed on the floor, covered by a plethora of pillows. The other curtain had some rag dresses hanging on a beam and a mountain of books.

"Hmm, closet." He said to himself. In the main room, a table sat underneath the mobile. On it, a tiny replica of the city. He observed it closely, trying not to touch anything. He saw the baker and the blacksmith, working at their designated areas. He could see Gar in his normal green attire. To his surprise, he saw his pole that he would sit upon, and Silkie lying on his coat next to it. However, he himself was missing. He frowned. Looking around, he found a glass vase in the window. Dead flowers, completely black, sat in the dirty water. He replaced it with the bouquet.

He heard a sniff and turned sharply. A small figure sat huddled in a corner. Her face hidden in her knees.

"Uh Koriandre?" He asked, hesitant.

She whipped her head up and looked at him. Her piercing green eyes stared into his own masked eyes.

"Um...sorry for intruding. I just wanted to see that you were alright."  
She silently got up and walked to him.

"I don't think I actually introduced myself to you. I mean, I was introduced, but not to you specifically. My name is Richarde Serieux. I brought the bouquet. I don't know if you really want it though, I mean, it might hold bad memories or something. But yeah, I wanted to check on you since you didn't let me talk to you after the incident...ah, I'm rambling. Uh...what are you doing?"

As he was talking, she circled him and examined him. He asked his question when she touched his arm. She said nothing, but let her fingers glide down his limb, feeling the muscles. She stopped at his hand and she played with his fingers. Bending and unbending them. She rubbed his knuckles and felt his palms. Then she pressed their hands against each other and raised them in front of her. She seemed to be fascinated.

Richarde wasn't much taller than her, but she seemed very tiny. Maybe because she was so skinny.

She intertwined their fingers for a moment and seemed to be content. Then she let go and moved to his side. Making small movements, her fingers grazed his body, not in a libidinous way, but in sheer curiosity. He stood unmoving and uncomfortable as her hand traced his spine. He noticed that her face held reverence, like she was standing in the presence of a mystic being.

"Quite the opposite, my dear." He thought with a small smile on his features.

Her hands moved up from his chest to his neck, then to his face. Her digits dared to touch his lips and his nose. Her hand swept his black locks away from his face while her other removed the mask that hid his eyes.

Viridian met azure. "Just like the sky." She mused. Her free hand went up into his hair, reveling at the feeling of the strands moving between her fingers. She stepped closer so that she was almost pressed against him.

He gulped.

Her other hand caressed his cheek, and before Richarde knew it, he was lip locked with her. Again. His eyes closed. Maybe it was pathetic, he would probably regret it later, but he wanted to treasure this. He wasn't so sure that he would ever see her again, and if this was as close as he could get, then he would enjoy it. How many years had he thought about her? Too many. This visit was long overdue.

She released him and he slowly came back to his senses. After a few moments of blinking like a moron, he finally found his voice.

"What was that?"

"I believe that was what you call a kiss."

"Well, yes, but why exactly?"

"Is it not customary for one person of a specific gender to accost another personage of analogous maturity, but contrapositive sex in an equivalent vigor as I have practiced?"

Again, he stood blinking for a full minute, trying to decrypt what she had said. "Um...no, not typically...er, not exactly..."

"Have I wronged you?" She asked worriedly.

"No no no!" He held his hands up. "It's alright, simple misunderstanding."

"If that is not a proper greeting, then why did you kiss me today at the festival?"

He laughed. "I'm sorry, I was returning the favor."

"Why? I have kissed you previously?"

"Yes, a long time ago. When you first came here, you ran into a young boy."

"That was you?!" She practically squealed.

"Yes. And to be frank, why did you do it back then? Were you just grateful?"

"No, I was learning French."

"That's not exactly how you do it..."

"It is how I do it." Then she threw her arms around him. "Serendipity! I have found my long lost comrade!" She snuggled into his chest.

Richarde was dumbfounded. She was acting she had known him her entire life. Granted, she did in a way, but not so...personally. He patted her hair.

A small mew came from the floor. Silkie nudged against the girls leg.

"What an interesting little creature!" She gushed.

"His name is Silkie, he's my cat."

She lifted the feline of the floor and coddled it. "Hello my little Bumgor'f!"

He ignored her odd comment. "Alright, now that we have that out of the way...how are you? Are you hurt?"

The smile she had been wearing faded. "I was very happy this afternoon. Everything that I had ever wanted was coming true. I had said so too, but..." She lowered her head to look at her bare feet. "I have never been so ashamed in my life."

He lifted her head to look at him. "None of it was your fault, you have no reason to be ashamed, and you couldn't do anything about it."

"But I could. My master told me not to go, but I disobeyed."

"Master?"

"Yes. I belong to him. I am his tool."

Richarde blinked. "You aren't a tool."

"Yes, I am." She said almost angrily. "I am not like you. I am not human and I do not have a soul."

"I think you do, Kori."

The iciness in her voice melted. "Kori?"

"Yeah, short for Koriandre. Do you mind if I call you that?"

She smiled. "I would lo-..." Then it faded. "I have no right."

Richarde pursed his lips. "I think Slaed's been lying to you."

"No! My master would never lie to me! He shows me what I must do to be obedient. And punishes me when I am wrong. He is looking out for my best interest."

"That's bull crap."

"You saw what happened to me today, yes? It was a result of my disobedience." She spoke as she walked over to her closet.

"No, it was a result of someone's stupidity! Mainly mine!"

"You could not have known what the consequences would be. There is no fault in you."

"Kori please. I'll bet that Slaed was the one who spread the rumor that started the whole thing, just to ruin your day."

"It was no rumor..." She said quietly, afraid that confessing her job would send him running.

"I know, I figured it out awhile ago," he sighed. "But it's not your fault. Slaed is just taking advantage of your abilities, and that's wrong."

"Nevertheless, I must obey him." She emerged, free from her soiled robes and instead adorned with a white dress. Its sleeves reached to her elbows, a thick lace held the seams. It reached a little above the knee and showed her shoulders completely.

Richarde stared, never seeing so much skin in his life. He blushed and turned away.

"My friend, is something wrong?"

He reasoned with himself. Slaed was a tight wad and would never spend the money on descent clothing for a person in hiding. And Victor saw her like this, so it wasn't odd, was it?

He bravely looked back. "No everything is..." He stopped. On her shoulder, he noticed a mark. A large one, deep in color. Then on her thigh was another. He looked over her and found more bruises and wounds, even one on her cheek that he hadn't noticed before, thinking it was a trick of the lighting. "Kori..." He reached out and touched her bruised shoulder softly.

She recoiled. "Please, do not worry about such things. They are there for a reason and will go away with time."

His heart broke for her. "Maybe the mark will go away, but the emotional damage won't. Are these from the festival?"

"A few. Most of them are a result of disobedience."

There was that word again. Richarde sighed. He had a lot of work to do.

"It is almost time for Victor's evening service; will you come and listen with me?"

Why not? "I'd love to."

She smiled and grasped his hand, pulling him along with her ridiculous strength. They maneuvered through the scaffoldings of the cathedral, balancing on beams and stealing through passageways. She led him to a small overhang in the ceiling of the main sanctuary. They sat on the edge and watched as the congregation filled the seats. Victor saw them from below and waved.

"If it is not too much trouble..." Kori finally spoke. "Would you come visit me again? I much enjoyed your company."

"Of course."

"And how shall I greet you?"

He had meant to say, "A hug is perfectly fine," but instead his lips uttered, "Another kiss is fine with me." His eyes widened at what he had just said and he mentally slapped himself repeatedly for being so weak minded.

"And a goodbye kiss is appropriate?"

"Sure." Mental slap.

"I am glad, I enjoyed it." She smiled.

Richarde melted like butter.

The service began. The choir sang, scripture was spoken, members fell asleep, and ushers hit them with poles.

" The Lord doth build up Jerusalem: he gathereth together the outcasts of Israel. He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds. He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names. Great is our Lord, and of great power: his understanding is infinite. The Lord lifteth up the meek: he casteth the wicked down to the ground.…"

Kori leaned her head on Richarde's shoulder.

After mass, they headed back to the tower. Kori rubbed her eyes.

"Tired?"

"It has been a long day."

"When should I come again?"

"Slaed will bring me breakfast at sunrise, but he will not be back afterwards. For my insolence, I will have no dinner for the rest of the week."

Richarde made a mental note to bring some supper for her. "Alright, until tomorrow afternoon then."

Even though he had agreed with it, it still caught him off guard when Kori pulled him into a tender kiss goodbye. He was dazed.

"Until tomorrow." She smiled beautifully.

"Hmm...oh, yeah. Bye." He sprinted from the room with what little dignity he had left.


	4. Modest Tints Arrayed

It was a pleasant morning. The bells had just rung, indicating that Kori was now awake. Richarde smiled from atop his pole. He leaned forward, carefully keeping his balance. A man came by and dropped a coin into his old top hat he used to collect spare change.

"Thank you sir!"

"Beautiful morning isn't it? How's the view up there?"

"Ah! Amazing! I can see straight out to the Seine!"

"Sounds like the most wonderful job."

"Sometimes I feel like it is." He smiled at the patron.

Suddenly, a young man, not much younger then Richarde sprinted between the two, grabbing the hat, and took off.

"Hey!" Richarde shouted while jumping from his position. He flipped onto the ground and wielded his pole like a staff. He gripped it tight and then brought it down ram the kid in the head.

He fell face first into the dirt. Richarde calming stood next to him with his arms crossed.

"You mind telling me what a kid like you is doing, robbing me?"

"I'm sorry! I'm just so hungry!"

"Oh good!" He smiled, his attitude changed. "I was just about to go down to the bakery for breakfast, wanna come?"

The kid looked at him, bewildered. "But I...you...what?"

"I thought you were taking it so you could get a fix on opium or your favorite drink. If you wanted food you could have just asked. I'm generous enough."

The kid could only gape.

"Come on! They got a killer puff pastry!" Richarde said salivating.

Later that afternoon, Kori laid on the floor of the tower. Her strength temporarily gone from the fight with Slaed. At any other time, she could have defended herself. But the way he yelled at her, it hurt her and caused her to lose focus. So when the blows came, she did not protect herself.

Now she laid, feeling worse then dirt. She tried to will herself to get up, but no happy thought motivated her.

"Kori?" A tender voice asked from behind her.

She sat up a bit to look at him. Excitement jumped to her eyes as she sprang to her feet and flew to him.

He braced himself as she jumped into his arms, her legs firmly around his waist and her arms around his neck. "I missed you!" She cried.

"Kori, it's only been a day."

"But it feels so long!"

"Are you alright?" He asked, looking at her.

She wiped a few of the stray tears away. "Please forgive me; a part of me believed that you would not return."

"Why?"

"I may have been losing my mind from being alone all these years."

He simpered. "Well, I promise I will come and see you everyday. Okay? Even if I can't spend a lot of time here, I'll still visit."

"That sounds marvelous." She finally leaned in and kissed him.

He set her down and smoothed his uniform. "Alright, what are we going to do today?"

She clapped her hands together. "I desire to listen to your voice, so I wish for you to read to me."

"Uh...read?" He ignored the fact that she said she wanted to listen to his voice.

"Yes! I was hoping for Romeo and Juliet. It is one of my favorites!" She skipped over and plopped the book into his hands.

He flipped through the pages awkwardly and then looked back her.

"Something is wrong?"

"I can't read."

She paused a long time. "Ah! That was a joke! Quite humorous!" She held a hand up to her mouth and laughed.

"Kori...I'm serious."

"What? But everyone can read!"

"Let me rephrase that. I can't read well. The last book I read was my first grade primer. I can read signs...but that's about it."

"Well signs are not much different from reading, please try."

He sighed and opened the book. He stared at the page a few moments. "I can't even pronounce most of these words. You don't want me to read this to you." He handed the book back to her, ashamed.

"Why can you not read?" She asked solemnly, hugging the parchment to her chest.

"I grew up in a family of poor trapeze artists, when I was seven; I became an orphan and had to perform every day to make a living. I never really had a chance to learn."

"Will you allow me to teach you?"

"I don't know..."

"You may think on it." She touched his face. "Do not worry yourself, I understand." She smiled.

He smiled back, suddenly feeling very small. Kori saw and knew how to fix it. She grabbed his arm and tugged him along. Kneeling on the ground, she pulled him down and then made him lay back. She rested her head on his chest and placed his hand on her waist.

"I want to know your story." She spoke.

He put his free arm behind his head. "Well, there's not much to tell. I was born in a shack, right on the edge of the square. My parents performed in Cirque du Solis, and I trained during the day. My papa taught me basic reading, writing and arithmetic and my mama taught me a few things to cook. They died in an accident from faulty rigging. I was too young to perform in the show, so I performed on the street instead. After I had the run in with you, I decided to step up my act. It may sound silly, but since then, I've really wanted to meet you. I was even considering becoming a monk."

"Oh, I am glad you did not! I have never spoken to any of the monks, let alone seen them. I much rather watch you perform." She smiled.

"Yeah, I would rather perform anyways. I don't have what it takes to be a monk."

"And you would look quite ridiculous with your hair in a ring."

He tugged at his onyx locks. "I do treasure it deeply."

She giggled. "Why did you want to see me?"

He thought a moment, unwilling to tell her that she's all he's thought about in the last ten years. "Well, I was concerned. You fell out of the sky, and then were received by the meanest man in Paris. I at least wanted to make sure you were alright."

"My master is not mean!" She turned over so her chin rested on his chest. "He is most kind! He took me in and cares for me as if I was his child. He teaches me and disciplines me..."

"And punishes you when you are disobedient. Yes, we've covered that. But, do you love him?"

"Love?"

"Yeah, do you?"

"I do not know. What is love?"

This question caught him off guard as he tried to figure out how to explain it to her. "Um...well, it's when you have feelings for someone. Good feelings, being around that person makes you warm inside. It's a deep care for someone, a want to protect them, and be with them at all times. Um, the kind of love I'm talking about is parental. So you hold him in high regard, and look up to him...and trust him."

"Oh..." She looked downward. "I...had not thought much about how he makes me feel..." She brought one hand up to his chest to trace the design on his uniform. "He makes me feel small. Insignificant. Like if I was gone, he would be lifted of a great burden. I do hold him in high regard, though! He saved my life, and I am very grateful to him for that."

"But do you love him?" He asked again.

"I do not believe I do." She whispered. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"No, I don't think I could love him either." He smiled.

"The feeling that you explained, I have read about it in books, but I did not understand what it meant. But I think...that is maybe...the way I think of you." She confessed.

Great. The second day he had known her, and she already confessed that she loved him. "Kori, you can't know that for sure."

She was appalled. "But that is how I feel!"

He hushed her. "We have not known each other for long enough. Trust me, time will tell." He smiled.

She smiled in return and snuggled into his chest.

"Kori, where did you live before all this? Like, when you fell out of the sky."

"I do not have any recollection. I do not even remember falling. The first memory I have, is when I looked up at you from that crater."

"Well, I guess I made quite the impression."

"Yes, I do believe you did."

"So explain this to me, you learned French from kissing me?"

"Yes."

"How?"

"I do not know the particulars, but I had this innate desire to press my lips to yours while you were speaking. After I did so, I comprehended your vernacular."

"So you think it could work with any other language?"

"I have already assimilated English, Latin, and Italian. My master bequeaths the same volume in different tongues and I translate them to learn a new language." She smiled.

"I must say, for not getting out much, your French is perfect."

"And yours...um..." She stopped herself.

"What? What's wrong with the way I talk?"

"You do not have the correct use of grammar. But I understand."

Richarde laughed. "Well, excuse me!"

"You are pardoned." She smirked.

They laid awhile still in silence. Kori fanned her hair across his chest. He idly ran his fingers through it. "You know, I don't think I've seen hair in such a lovely color."

"And I also suppose you have not seen eyes completely green or a skin tone such as mine."

"It's okay to be unique. That's what makes you, you."

"I understand the importance of uniqueness. But must I be so ugly?"

He sat up straight in shock. "Ugly?! What in the name of Henry VIII are you talking about?!"

"Well, Slaed told me that the only reason I won in the contest was because I was so interesting...and strange."

He groaned. "That's what he told you? Really? Kori, you won that thing fair and square. You wiped the floor with those other girls!"

"Please, I do not remember using another contestant as a broom or mop."

Richarde chuckled. "I mean, they didn't stand a chance against you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. And I've been a judge in the festival for many years."

"You believe me to be beautiful?" She spoke softly.

"Well, yeah...I mean, why wouldn't I think you were pretty?"

"...thank you, Richarde."

They spoke for a long time. Just laying on that floor and talking about whatever came to mind. Something Richarde seemed to appreciate from the relationship was a mutual thirst for knowledge. She was teaching him things she had read in books, cultures, rich vocabulary, theories and facts. He taught her how to live, how to feel, how to be human.

He hated himself for it, but he was falling hard and fast. Someone was going to get hurt, and he'd rather it not be Kori.

As the sun began to set, Richarde sat up. "Are you hungry?"

"A bit so, yes."

"How about I go get us something to eat?" He stood and helped her up. "What would you like?"

She gained a twinkling in her eye. "I get a choice?"

"Of course! What does Slaed feed you?"

"Bread and fruit. And usually water to drink."

"I see...is there something would like?"

"When I went out for the festival, I bought a meal...I believe it is called a sandwich. There was bread and meat and it was smothered in this yellow sauce. It was heavenly! Tart and sweet, and little bitter and still smooth. Do you know what I am speaking of?"

"Mustard? A sandwich with mustard, I can do that."

"No, just the mustard. Nothing else."

He blinked at her, and then laughed. "Are you sure you don't want to eat it on something?"

"Are you supposed to?"

"Yes, typically."

"Well, then yes. A sandwich with mustard is what I desire."

"Alright. I'll be back soon." He gave her a quick peck on the cheek and left.

Outside the tower, Richarde made his way into town. After locating a sandwich shop, he noticed that there was a bookstore next door. With a certain thought in mind, he poked into the store and looked around. The room was relatively small and dark. Books covered the walls, reaching from the floor to the ceiling.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to buy something?" A girl sat behind a counter. She was small, and pale. Her short black hair framed her emotionless face.

"Uh...I'm looking for a book."

"You don't say." She said in a monotone, flipping a page in her tome.

"I'm Richarde. Nice to meet you."

She looked up and raised an eyebrow. "They call me Raven."

"Ah, well..."

"Do you need help?"

"Yeah...the book is for a friend, and I can't read."

"You can't read." It was more of a question then a statement.

"Ah, no."

"Oh, you're that pole dancer in the square, aren't you?"

His cheeks grew red. "I am not a pole dancer!"

"Relax. I'm kidding." Only the smallest of smirks graced her face. "Yeah, I get it. Orphan, street performer, informal education, and 'the heartthrob of Paris'. What kind of book are you looking for?"

He blinked a few times and then caught up with her. "Um...her favorite is Romeo and Juliet.

"Her, hmm? I didn't think you were interested in anyone. Word on the street is you've turn down every girl that's fawned over you."

"Almost everyone...there's someone I've had my eye on for a long time..."

"The Angel of Notre Dame." She said confidently.

"Yes! How did you know?"

"I could hear the festival from here. I saw you defend her...and that little display you gave during your performance."

"Heh...you saw that huh?"

"I'm pretty sure everyone saw that. Especially since I hear so much gossip." She gestured to the window. "Every girl in the city hates her."

"Do you?"

"No, I choose to get to know someone before I hate them." She looked wistfully over to the cathedral. "Still, I can't help feeling sorry for her. She's alone, isn't she?"

"Not completely. I spent the day with her, and The Reverend Victor cares for her. And then there's Slaed..."

She gave a bitter laugh. "Now I feel even sorrier for her. I think she'll enjoy  _The Allegory of the Cave_  by Plato." Raven got up from the counter and ghosted to the back of the room. "If you're giving it to her, it's free of charge, when she finishes it, bring it back and get another." She handed him the leather bound book. "As long as you tell her hello for me."

"Can do!" He thrust his hand out. She hesitantly took it and he shook heartily. "She'll be so happy! Thanks Raven!"

He let her go, and she smoothed her cloak. "Yes, indeed. Now get out of my shop."

He smiled at her and skipped out.

As much as she hated it, another smiled made its way on her face. This time, it was genuine.

Back at the church, Richarde climbed the stairs to the tower, but his friend was no where to be found.

"Kori?"

"Out here!" Her voice called from the balcony.

He stepped out carefully to see her kneeling on a blanket. She had two cups and plates sitting out, one set clay, one set silver. Between them, a candle flickered with a small flame.  
He gave a small smile and sat down. "Kori, this looks lovely."

"Look over at the sunset." She pointed.

The horizon was full of pinks, reds and, oranges, slathered across the sky like paint on a canvas. "Beautiful. I bet the king himself doesn't have a view like this."

She nodded dumbly. He turned to smile, only to find her staring intently at him.

"What?"

"You are very handsome." She smiled.

He blushed. "Thank you." He unfolded the cloth he had inside a basket to protect the food and pulled the sandwiches out. Before he set them down, he narrowed his eyes at the tableware.

"Is something wrong?"

"I see you have put silver before me, while you have clay."

"Yes, that is how it is done."

"Switch it."

She gasped. "I cannot! You are the guest!"

"Kori, I barely even use tableware, and of I do, rest assured, its clay. I don't mind!"

"But!"

He set her sandwich on the silver plate and handed it to her. "Plenty of mustard, just as you asked."

She sighed. He wouldn't let her have her way. "I thank you."

He pulled out a bottle and started pouring the glasses.

"What is that?"

"Wine."

"Is it good?"

"It's fermented grape juice."

"Fermented, as in rotten?"

"Yes."

She made a face.

"Oh come on! It's good!" He took a swig to prove it. "Hmmm...You try it."

She took a little sip. It burned and tickled as it trickled down her throat. The taste was not unpleasant either. She took another big gulp and started chugging the glass.

"Whoa! Careful! Drink it slow!"

She swallowed her mouthful and let out a hiccup. A small blush dusted onto her cheeks.

Again, they talked. It seemed like they never ran out of things to say. She'd ask and question which would lead to another and another until they were thinking of things they hadn't before. Soon, it grew dark and Richarde resolved it was time for him to leave.

"Kori, I have to work tomorrow, but I will definitely come for dinner."

"Sounds wonderful."

"Oh! I almost forgot!" He pulled Raven's book out from the basket. "Here, I stopped at the book store on the way to get dinner. The owner thought you might like this. When you're done, I can return it and get another for you. Oh and she says hi."

"Who?"

Richarde mentally kicked himself. "The owner of the bookstore, her name's Raven."

"Raven? Such as the bird? What a very lovely name! You must tell her I say hello as well." She smiled.

"I promise." He leaned in and gave her a goodbye kiss. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Farewell."

The next day, Richarde stood poised on his staff, his heart warm despite the cool autumn air.

"Dude! Where have you been? I looked everywhere for you yesterday, nobody saw you!"

Richarde transferred his weight to one leg and crouched, letting the other one dangle. He rested his elbow on his knee and his head in his palm. "Gar, where have I been? I'll tell you. I've been in love." His gaze remained on the cathedral.


	5. Within the Silent Shade

"Merry Christmas Gar!" The exuberant acrobat cheered as he snuck up behind him.

Garfield flung the ball he was juggling up and into the crowd as he yelped. "Don't do that!"

Richarde chuckled.

"What's with you anyways? I thought you hated Christmas."

"I did. But that was before I had anyone to celebrate with."

"Anyone?" Gar raised a brow.

"Okay, besides you. But what did we do besides go down to the cafe and buy cake before going off and pestering Victor?"

"But that's tradition!"

"I know it is, and we'll still do it, but..." He looked up to the bell tower.

"Nuh-uh, don't say another word! Richarde, you and I have been friends for a long time. Surprisingly. But what you have with Kori...man I've just never seen the likes of it! You've known her for three months, and yet you can't seem to get her off of your mind."

"No Gar, I've known her for ten years, and haven't been able to get her off my mind. Now, I'm just not hiding it anymore. Because I don't have to."

"I'm happy for you. I think I'll go invite that Raven girl at the book store to go with me."

"You think she will?"

"You said she's pretty nice."

"I said she's pretty feisty. I'd be careful if I was you."

"If not, I'll just spend Christmas with Vic. You know he doesn't have any other family."

"Can you sit through one of his sermons?"

Garfield shuttered. "He's my friend, I will support him even where he doesn't excel."

"If the pope ever heard the way that man swears, shoot, he'd be out of there faster then you can say, 'excommunication'."

"No kidding!" Garfield laughed. "So?"

"So what?"

"Whatdya get me?" Gar asked, rubbing his hands together.

"Here ya go, you selfish little imp." He tossed him a box, colorfully wrapped in paper.

"Aw yeah! That's what I'm talking about." He ripped the box open in excitement, only to stop and stare at the present.

"Well?"

"It's a hat."

"A jesters hat!" He grinned.

Gar pulled out the monstrosity. It matched his lime green uniform and had big silver bells on each of the tendrils. He put it on his head and felt like he gained six pounds. "Well, how do I look?"

He snorted. "Absolutely ridiculous."

"Ohh! But it's warm!" He squealed, pulling it down over his fluffy blonde hair and abnormally pointed ears.

"That's why I got it! It's been getting colder lately."

Garfield stood regally, the bells dinging with each movement. "Thank you for your kind generosity brother!"

Richarde matched his pose. "'twas nothing dear brother!"

They both broke out in laughter.

In the cathedral, Kori skipped down the stairs, humming. She peered out the door and saw no one. She stalked carefully out the room, searching for her friend. She found him sweeping in the atrium. Using her stealth she snuck up behind him.

"Girl, if you jump on me, I will take you down."

She ignored him and sprung. "Merry day of Christ!" She laughed as she clung to him.

"Merry Christmas Kori." He smiled as he rested his broom against the wall.

"I made you something." She hopped off and handed him a small package. "It gets very cold in church, and so I hope this keeps you warm."

He opened it to find a long, thick scarf. White in color. "Oh Koriandre, thank you so much. I'll wear it with the mittens you made me last year." He smiled, wrapping the material around his neck.

"I am glad that you like it. I ask you to give these to Garfield and Raven." She handed him two matching packages.

"You made them something? But you've never met them!"

"Of course I have! I have met them through Richarde's stories. I feel as if I have known them my whole life."

"Kori, you are so sweet. Did you make Slaed anything?"

"What is the point?" She sighed. "For the first few years I made him something, he always gave them away. If he does not want them, I shall not give him anything."

"Harsh, but understandable. What about Richarde?"

A dopey smile came over her face. "What about Richarde?"

"Did you make him something?"

"Of course! I will give it to him when he comes later on this evening. I am very excited to spend Christmas with someone. Since you are usually busy with the some of the others that do not have homes or families."

"And since Slaed doesn't care enough to come."

"Yes, precisely." She sighed. "But I will have Richarde all evening." She hid her blush behind her hair.

"Aw! My little sister is growing up!" He hugged her. "Look at you, falling in love with a good man!"

She gave an embarrassed 'eep' and blushed harder. "Please, you must not say anything to him about it!"

He laughed. "I won't! I promise. Besides, there's no fun in it if I say anything."

"How does he feel about me?" She asked, fear in her eyes.

He smiled and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I can't tell you. But that's what's so great about love. It's the mystery, the thing that pulls you closer together. But I will tell you this; he cares deeply about you and you have nothing to fear."

She exhaled shakily. "Thank you Victor."

He hugged her again. "No problem." While he held her, he made an odd discovery and felt her waist. "Have you been eating well enough?"

As if on cue, her stomach growled. "Slaed has been punishing me differently lately. I am getting stronger and he is getting older."

"That man is going to be the death of you." He murmured.

Later that day, Gar, Richarde, and Raven stopped at the bakery and brought some cakes to the cathedral and pestered Victor while he was busy, as per tradition. They laid a blanket out in the foyer and had a small picnic when the pastor was done with his duties. For the first time in many years, Raven was happy to be celebrating Christmas. As most of them were alone, her mother had passed away and her father was off traveling. He sent her money to sustain her, but she had no other family, and therefore hadn't celebrated in years. She acted bored and annoyed, but truth be told, she wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

Around dinner time, Richarde bid adieu to his friends and climbed the stairs to the tower, basket in hand. Victor had clued him in on Koriandre's 'diet' so he made sure to bring plenty of food for her. Along with his present.

"Kori, I'm here!"

"Coming!" She dashed in the room from the balcony. Her hair was tied into a braid, draping over her shoulder. Freshly fallen snow dusted the crown of her head as her black cloak hugged her form and kept her warm. "I just love winter! The snow makes the city look pure and clean." She skipped up to him and stood on her tip toes, preparing for a kiss.

"Ah ah ah!" He playfully backed away.

She pouted. "What is the matter?"

"It's Christmas. If we're going to kiss, we have to do it right." He held up a plant with spiky green leaves and white berries.

"Mistletoe? I do not understand. What does that have to do with kissing?"

"It's a big thing in England right now, you get underneath it with someone you want to kiss and then after one kiss, you pluck a berry. When all berries are gone, no more kisses."

She put a finger to her chin. "That is a most particular act concerning a parasitical plant."

"Mistletoe is a parasite?"

"Yes, the word mistletoe means 'dung branch' as the seeds are carried through bird's fecal matter."

He gave the plant a grim look. "Well, forget that." He tossed the plant over his shoulder and stooped to kiss her.

"It was the thought that counts." She smiled.

"Sounds like a silly tradition, people years from now will look back and wonder what the heck we were thinking. It'll never catch on."

"Quite." She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Thank you for spending Christmas with me."

He kissed her forehead. "No problem." He pulled away. "I have a present for you!"

Her eyes grew wide and excited. "A present?! For me!"

"Yep, here you go!" He took the present out of the basket and handed it to her.

"Oh! A terra-cotta pot filled with dirt! How wonderful!"

He laughed. "No Kori, there are violet seeds planted in here. Come spring time, you'll have a sprout to care for."

"I really get a violet? I have never seen one in real life."

"No, I suppose you would not..."

"I have a gift for you as well!" She sashayed over to the table and took a small parcel. "I made it myself, I hope you like it."

He opened it to find a blue cloth. He lifted it. "A scarf! Excellent!"

"I know it must be cold for you out there, so hopefully this will help. I tried to find yarn that would match your uniform."

"I think it does. Would you do the honors?"

With a smile, she looped the article around his neck and tied a loose knot.

"It's very warm, thank you." He kissed her forehead.

"I welcome you." She beamed.

The evening was spent somewhat unconventionally. After they had eaten their meager Christmas dinner, Kori requested a boon from Richarde.

"You need me to what?"

"Pose! You are the only model I do not have in my miniature. When I see you up close, you are either standing or sitting. Can you perform one of your movements you do on your staff?"

He raised his hands in the air and then did four consecutive front flips and ended it with an aerial summersault. "And he sticks the landing!" He turned on the balls of his feet. "What do you want me to do?"

"Whatever you feel most comfortable doing for an extended period of time while I carve." She took out a knife and a small piece of wood.

"How about this?" He balanced on one foot, the other at a point, touching his knee. He held his arms out in front of him, slightly curved.

"That is most perfect! I quite like it."

"Take your time; I can do this all day." He smiled.

A long time went by in silence. Kori peered up between each slice of the blade. Each movement was careful and deliberate. Richarde figured she was just focused. After she carved the form, she set it down solemnly on the table, along with the knife.

"Are you going to paint it now?" Richarde asked, coming out of his contortion and laid out to stretch.

Again she was silent. "Richarde?" She whispered.

He sat up and kneeled in front of her. "Yes?"

"Is Slaed uneducated?"

His first instinct was to burst into laughter, but with the look on her face, he held it in. "I believe he's been to many schools. At least I think he has, since he's a judge and all. Why do you ask?"

A thoughtful look came over her face. "Euclid's first common notion is this: things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other. A is equal to B; likewise, A in addition to C is equal to B in addition to C. It is a rule of mathematical reasoning. It is a self-evident truth that things which are equal to the same thing are equal to each other. So if Slaed knows this, why does he act like I am so far below him?"

Richarde could only stare in shock. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Euclid's book sitting on the table. She sat pouting, waiting for him to answer.

He scratched the back of his head. "In theory, I guess everyone is equal. I mean, God created all of us in his image, an image that is equally spread between us. But, there are some people out there that feel like they are better just because of wealth, or birth, sex, age, skin colour, and social status. Sadly, that is the world in which we live." He lifted her head and tweaked her nose. "Slaed is educated, but he is dumb. He doesn't understand the value of human life. And that's what makes you so much better then him."

She smiled and opened her mouth to reply, but a little bell in the corner rang. "He is coming!" Kori gasped.

She took the basket and hid it under the table while Richarde climbed the scaffoldings and hid high up in the rafters. They had developed this warning system with Victor a few months ago, after nearly being caught. They would have too if Slaed hadn't coughed in the stairwell. So as Slaed started his ascent, Victor would ring the bell and Richarde would escape through a window above the balcony. Tonight though, he decided it best to wait.

Koriandre had just enough time to smooth her dress before the door opened. Slaed stepped heavily into the room.

"Oh, Master, I did not think you would be coming."

"Nonsense, I always have time for you, Koriandre."

'Liar' Richarde thought bitterly.

"Look, I've even brought you a present." He delivered a plain package to her hands.

She unwrapped it slowly to a thick black cloth. "It is..."

"A new cloak. Your old one reeked of death. Go ahead, try it on."

She shuffled to her closet and switched out clothing and then re-entered the room. The cloak wasn't visibly any different from the last, except it was darker and longer. "It fits," she concluded.

"Excellent." He handed her her mask. "Let's go try it out."

Her eyes widened. "What could you possibly mean? It is the day of Christ's birth! I can not go out and ruin this sacred day!"

"Koriandre, there is a soul out there in torment. The best thing you could do for him would be to release him and ease his pain. Don't be selfish."

Kori stepped back, stung. "Yes master. I understand."

Up above, Richarde grit his teeth as he watched them leave. He secured his silk mask on his face. He snuck through the window and followed them, using the rooftops to hide.

Slaed's horse and its two passengers stopped at an old shack not too far from Richarde's. He knew the man who lived here and wondered why he was being released. He jumped down and watched the story unfold from the window.

Koriandre was pushed into the house first. The man was sitting at a table in the middle of the room. He had his head in his arms and a large, empty bottle of wine in front of him. When Kori entered, he looked up to her with foggy eyes.

"What're ya doin' in here?" He drawled while pointing a wiggling finger. "I don't need no help from your type...you murderer!"

Kori coward back, that name unnerved her.

"He's mentally ill Kori, he sees hallucinations. His wife left him and all he does is drink. He's dangerous." Slaed spoke behind her.

"Can he not be held in the prison then?" She asked hopefully.

"No, the prison is slowly being filled with criminals that can be rehabilitated into society. He cannot. No one will miss him." He pushed her forward again.

Kori stalked closer to the man, determined to not cave.

"I said git outta here! Your comin' fer me, but I ain't going!"

Koriandre raised her hand with tear-filled eyes and ignited it.

"I don't wanna die!" He shouted.

She grit her teeth and closed her eyes tight. A vapor came from his mouth and he collapsed on the floor. Kori panted.

"What did you do to papa?" A shy voice asked.

The two spun around quickly to see a small child peeking through a doorway. "Is he sleeping?"

Koriandre gasped and brought her hands up to her face under her mask.

Slaed sneered at the child. "Where's your mother?"

"At her house."

Slaed grabbed the little girl's shoulder and pulled her outside. "Then go to her!"

Kori stood shell-shocked inside the room.

"Releaser! Come! We leave!" Without a word of sympathy, he mounted his horse. Kori followed quickly behind, silently.

After they left, Richarde made his presence known and approached the little girl. She was looking at her father that lay limp on the floor. Gently, he pulled her away and shut the door. He recognized her from the crowd of children that came to watch Gar and him.

"Adelè," he whispered quietly.

She turned to him, her blonde curls shaking. "Mr. Serieux!" She cried. "What is wrong with my papa?"

He couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth, so he simply kneeled and gave her a small hug. "I'm sorry."

Her little eyes widened. "You mean..." She clutched him. "No papa! No!"

"Let me take you home to your mother, where does she live?" He raised her into his arms.

After delivering Adelè to her mother, and explaining the situation, he rushed back to the church and scaled the side. To any normal person, it would have been tricky, but Richarde had grown accustomed to using his skills to sneak in and out of the church. If you knew where each ledge and grip was, it was relatively easy.

He waited out on the balcony, behind a pillar, and listened.

"But he did not deserve it! You lied to me! He had a little girl that loved him, and you took that man away from her!" Pain was in Kori's voice as she spoke. "I never had parents, so it is hard for me to imagine her pain."

"Child!" Slaed barked and shut her up. "I did nothing! You were the one who released him. You will not point fingers at me."

"But I was following your orders."

"And rightly so! That man was a waste of space, a wart upon Paris' population. It had to be done."

"It was murder!"

"It was cleansing!"

"Please master," she kneeled, "never make me do such an act again. I have never felt so sick..."

"I can see you are ill, so we shall not discuss anymore this evening." He turned to leave, but threw one thing back at her. "Merry Christmas, Koriandre." The door slammed shut behind him.

Richarde stepped into the room when he heard her sobs. Much like the first time he was in the tower, she was curled up in the corner. Her mask sat next to her on the floor, and her hood covered her fiery red hair.

He kneeled in front of her. "Kori?"

"You were right. He places no value in human life." She lifted her teary eyes to his face. "And he expects the same of me. But I cannot."

Richarde opened his arms and she took refuge in his embrace. "It wasn't your fault. It was out of your hands."

She clutched him tightly. "Heaven help me. My hands are stained with blood."


	6. Sweet Perfume

"Is that a book I see?" Garfield interrupted Richarde's train of thought.  
The acrobat looked down from his perch. "Yes it is, my uneducated friend. I'm surprised you knew what it was!"

"But you can't read." The jokester scratched his head, the bells on his obtuse hat jingling.

"Correction, I couldn't read. But I am now at a fifth grade elementary reading level."

"How? Has Raven been teaching you?"

"No, Kori. When she found out I couldn't read, she was pretty upset. So she's been teaching me."

"Ah, so what are you reading?"

"An excerpt from the Canterbury tales. An Earl is going to have his daughter's head cut off because a Judge accused her of theft. But in reality, the judge wants to marry her and is going to have her work for him instead of going to jail, in an effort to get her to fall in love with him. But she's like twenty years younger then him. So her father's going to kill her to save her honor."

"Well, glad to know you're keeping up your cheerful disposition. Right Silkie?"

The cat ignored him and continued sleeping.

"Psh, animals. Have fun with your book."

Richarde's first reading lessons had been atrocious. Kori started him out by reading some passages from the Bible. It took him ten minutes of stuttering to get through a sentence. He knew his letters, but was lost on how exactly to string them together. His writing was even worse. He didn't even know how to hold a quill.

After months of hard work, he was finally able to get to the point were he could continue teaching himself on his own. Victor had been ecstatic when the boy read four of the psalms aloud, barely stuttering or stumbling.

The weather had been terrible the last few weeks. It was mid February and Paris was being completely dumped on. Of course this was dangerous for the folks who lived in the shacks. In an effort to keep their homes safe, they would take a long stick and swipe the snow from the roof so the weight didn't collapse it.

Unfortunately, our flexible friend had not paid attention to the accumulation on his dwelling. It was in the middle of a nasty storm when the shack decided it had enough.

He woke up from Silkie worming his way out from under the wool blanket and bounding off of his chest. The acrobat groaned and turned, but his eyes snapped open when he heard a loud crack. He had just enough time to bolt from his straw mattress on the floor before snow started pour through the roof. Within minutes, all of his meager possessions were buried.

"Great, just great!" He muttered, cold and groggy. His feline looked up at him and Richarde dropped the wool blanket for him. "Yeah, I didn't need it anyways..." He set out digging some of his stuff out, at least the valuable things that people would steal in the morning.  
A little known fact about Mr. Serieux was his true wealth. From the outside, he looked like he was part of the poor peasantry. But in reality, he had enough money under his mattress to buy the church and more. The boy had a dream, and was saving and saving for it. There was only one thing that was missing from his plan.

Koriandre.

Richarde sneezed as he pulled the third ripe sack of coinage from the hole in the ground. "Geez, looking at it now, you'd think I was an earl." He set the bags next to the slumbering feline and hid them partially with the blanket.

After an hour or so, he collected all that he wanted in a bag. Two extra uniforms, a metal cooking pot, three bowls that belonged to his mother, and a package of smoked sausage he planned on eating for breakfast. By time he was done retrieving his mess, his form was trembling. His nose was red and sore from him wiping it so many times and his hands were numb. He crouched for a moment, his hands in his armpits and his teeth chattering.

"Okay, so...I'm not going to be able to rebuild until spring. Garfield's shack is even smaller then mine." He glanced over to the money sacks. "Nah, too expensive to buy a new one." He snapped his fingers. "The church houses travelers, maybe Vic could set me up for the winter!"

He tied the corners of his blanket so he could carry it on his back. Silkie didn't budge as he loaded the makeshift pack and put it on his back. He shouldered his other bag and started his trek across town.

At the church, he knocked hard on the door and waited, but there was no answer.

"Of course, the one time I come to pester him about something important, he's asleep. What happened to good hospitality?! Huh!" He shouted at the large door, obviously getting no reply.

Out of habit, he looked up to the bell tower. "There's that too..." He contemplated. "I am so going to regret this." Richarde scaled the side of the cathedral and entered the tower.

As soon as he entered the threshold, he was warmed. He saw a glow coming from behind the curtain where she slept and figured there was a fire heating the room. The large iron bell suspended above her must have helped trap the heat. Richarde rested his bag behind the curtain in the closet, along with his money, to keep Slaed from spotting it. He checked his clothes. Everything was soaked. He sighed and threw the two clean uniforms over a rafter to dry. He stripped down to his undergarments and hung the drenched, frozen suit, along with Kori's scarf, next to the others. His skin was damp, but he had nothing dry to use. The wool blanket was damp but wasn't soaked like his clothes. He shooed Silkie off and wrapped up in it.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the miniature sitting on the table. His figure had been painted. The little wooden locks painted black, matching his uniform. The blue design across his chest was accurate as well. Kori had made a stand of putty where the small staff was supported. The figure had a small hole on the bottom of its foot where the staff inserted. Richarde gingerly slipped the figure off the stand and placed it up in the tower, its tiny arms incasing the miniature of his beloved. That was more accurate. Quietly, he slipped behind the curtain where Kori slept.  
She laid upon a thick mattress, cradled by a plethora of pillows. A fuzzy wool blanket draped across her form and tucked around her. She looked so...comfortable. Oh how he envied her. She was content. The way she brought her knees up, the way her feet locked together, even the sheer beauty of her ruby red locks sprawled across the floor. It was like she was other worldly.

She was, he'll admit. And that's why he was so fond of her. So strange, and yet, so simple. It was the reason he kept coming back. He loved her, no doubt about it. If only the invisible chains that bound her to the tower would dissipate.

He knelt next to her and gave a kiss to her temple. She smiled in her sleep and whispered a sweet, "Richarde..."

Deciding to avoid temptation, Richarde sat against the curtained wall by the fire. He warmed his trembling hands by the flames. His loyal pet, also slightly damp, curled up in his lap.

"Thanks pal." He whispered. He pulled the blanket closer and allowed himself to rest.  
He barely slept though. Paranoia had him up every time he almost fell asleep. He felt like Slaed was watching, like he knew that he was there. Eventually though, his body took control and his weariness knocked him out.

Around sunrise, Richarde's internal alarm went off and he roused slightly, still exhausted. He felt nice and warm before a loud clank woke him up. His eyes shot open hand he involuntarily yelped. Silkie shrieked and scratched his thigh.

Talk about a rude awakening.

Kori ran into the room, looking embarrassed. She was speaking frantically, but he couldn't hear her.

"What? What are you saying?" He raised his voice.

She came over and plucked the cotton out of his ears. "I am sorry! I did not wish to awake you, but the bell had to be rung. I am so very sorry."

He ran his fingers through his disheveled hair. "Nope, it's fine. It's your job, your tower. I was just here, uninvited. You have every right to wake me up and kick me out."

"Oh but I did not wish to kick you out, you may stay here...as long as my master does not know." She leaned forward. "Why  _are_  you here?"

He wearily stood up. "My house collapsed in the middle of the night. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I tried to get into the church, but the door was locked. I hoped you wouldn't mind."

"I do not." She grinned and kissed his forehead. "Richarde! Your forehead is burning!"

He waved her off. "I have to go perform. I'll be back around lunch time."

"But-"

"I'll be fine." He removed the blanket from his shoulders, only to find a different one on him then he went to bed with.

"The other one was damp, so I put a warmer one on you. I heard you come in last night and waited until you were asleep."

"Oh...sorry for waking you." He slipped passed her and went to the closet. Feeling the fabric of his uniform, he frowned when he found them still damp. He turned to look at her to see she was staring at his chest. "What?"

She pointed.

"Yes, this is my skin. I have it under my clothes."

"You are pale."

He chuckled. "I know." She stepped forward with a hand out, but he halted her. "You don't need to touch it; it feels the same as when I have my uniform on." He smirked.

She reddened. "I was merely curious."

He turned back to pull his suit from the rafters, but then felt her hands on his back. He stiffened when she rested her cheek on his spine.

"You are wrong. Your skin is very soft and warm."

He sighed. She didn't know any better, so he just let her continue...that is, until he sneezed and frightened her.

He grabbed his uniform. "Maybe sometime you can admire my skin more, but right now, I have to go."

She was skeptical, but unsure if how to stop him. "Take care then."

He smiled as he zipped his uniform. "I will." He delivered a peck on the cheek and left through the back staircase.

Victor was up, sweeping the corridor. "Oh, Richarde my friend, what are you doing here so early?"

"Dying."

"Excuse me?"

"My house collapsed in the middle of the night. The door was locked, so I slept up in the tower by Kori."

"And someone's going to kill you when they find out?"

"No," he sniffed and took out his moist handkerchief. "Because I'm sick, and I feel like I'm dying!"

"I see." Victor removed his scarf. "Here, you can borrow this. Because I know if I tell you to stay in, you'll push me aside and say with that stupid grin of yours, 'I'm fine.' When you're obviously not."

He put on the scarf. "Thanks Vic. See ya later."

"We'll see."

Richarde both hated and feared being ill. He had no one to care for him and no way to get treatment. In his mind, he was not allowed a day off of work. Not if he wanted to travel. He sluggishly retrieved his staff from the wall it leaned on in the street.

"Good morning Serieux!" The jester shouted from a few feet away.

"Yes, it's morning, but good? I don't think so."

"You don't look so hot."

"I'm freezing."

"Oh come on, the cool air is refreshing! Just let that draft tease your skin and BBBRRRRR!"

"You're so weird."

"Says the man that stands on top of a pole all day."

"Touché."

Richarde stuck the end of his staff in the ground and vaulted. He missed and fell face first in the snow.

Garfield broke out in fanatic laughter. "What's wrong Richie? Got lead in your butt?!"

Richarde groaned as he plucked himself off the ground. He was soaked again. "No good, lousy, son of a-...argh!" He mumbled under his breath. He tried again to get up on his pole, only this time he wobbled a bit before tumbling. Thankfully he knew how to land so he didn't hurt himself.

Well, at least not badly. He held his stick and leaned against it.

"Hey, you have a rough night? Why don't you go home?"

Richarde shook his head but didn't say anything else. He stared at the ground for a long time and then stared back at the top of his staff.

Children were starting to come around. Gar had begun his routine already, and the kids were all focused on him.

"Come on Richarde," he coached himself. "You aren't sick. You can't be sick. This isn't about you. You have to get up!" He gripped the wooden staff and closed his eyes.

He imagined a large crowd of happy, entertained people. The smell of popcorn filled the air. Loud drums and horns filled the air. He could practically hear the announcer. "And now, performing their spectacular act without the use of a safety net, les élancé Serieux!" Richarde imagined a drum roll and hoisted himself up on his staff. He wobbled for only a moment, and then found his center. He stayed low, his form shaking. He was well aware of the children that were now watching him.

"Mr. Serieux," Adelé asked. "What's wrong? Why are you all wobbly?"

He didn't answer as he was too busy to stay upright.

"He's having some trouble to-day." Gar elaborated. "Not feeling up to par."

"Ooohh." The kids sung in unison.

After a loud grunt, Richarde almost fell, but by frantically flapping his arms, he stayed upright. "I feel like I'm in training again." He could feel sweat pouring down his forehead as he shivered. "I think I'm going to vomit."

"Let us know when you do!" Garfield shouted. "We can make a show out of it!"

"You're repulsive!" He shouted as he swayed. "Don't take advantage of me; I'm in a delicate state."

"Yeah, like a friggin' flower. Come on kids, let's cheer for Mr. Serieux!"

"Yeah!" They chimed.

"Balance! Balance! Balance!" They shouted while clapping. The group surrounded the staff and people began to look onto the commotion. Even Kori leaned out the window to watch.  
Richarde grit his teeth in frustration as the pole began to shake. He kept his vision on a specific brick in the building across the street.

'Stop chanting, I can't focus!' He inwardly hissed.

Eventually they cheered and then the normal sounds of the snow filled city surfaced. He took a deep breath. Still he was unstable, but was able to stay aloft.

The day progressed much too slowly for Richarde's likes. He was fully exposed to the wind. His ears and nose were numb and his fingers tingled. He interchanged his hands in his armpits to keep warm, but had to sacrifice to stay balanced. Normally, he worked up enough of a sweat he was fine, but being static all day...well, he was just glad Victor had lent him his scarf.

"Hey freak show!" Some guard called from the ground. "Let's see some of your moves! I heard you're good. Why don't you prove it?!"

Any other day, Richarde would have blown a raspberry at the man and then do a triple somersault off his staff. Today, he ignored.

"Hey! I'm talkin' to you, pretty boy! Instead of sitting on your perch all day long, why don't you get a real job? Too lazy to work?"

Richarde grit his teeth as another bead of sweat dripped off his forehead. He was seeing double and felt like he was swimming. He was getting worse.

"You hear me, you good for nothing bum?! It's people like you that create an eyesore in our city!"

"That's enough Franck, he's ignoring you." The other guard spoke.

"Like hell he is." The guard scooped up some slush and patted it into a ball. "Let's see how truly coordinated you are!" The man chucked the slush ball and hit Richarde clear across the face, knocking him off balance.

Vertigo set in and the whole world spun. He heard muffled noises, possibly voices, but he couldn't tell. He fell with a splat into a pile of wet snow. Everyone was laughing at him and pointing.

"What a joke! He should change his act. I'd bet he'd make a fortune if he let us knock him down."

"No wonder he's not in Cirque de Solis, he's a wash out!"

Richarde was exhausted and defeated. He could only lie on the frozen ground and listen to the chastisement.

"He doesn't deserve these earnings; they could probably go to someone needier, like me." The guard happily took the pot and stalked off. The rest of the small crowd dispersed as they laughed.

"Get a job, you freak!"

They left him in a heap. A miserable, shivering, sniveling heap. Tears pricked at his eyes.

"I can't do anything right," he thought. "He's right...I am a joke."

The whole day was shot. He was better off staying home. The only thing he knew how to do, and he failed at it. There was no purpose in traveling now. Koriandre would never want to be with him. He was stupid, pathetic. A freak.

Garfield looked over at his friend after coming back from his lunch break. "Richarde!" He ran over and tried to help him up.

"Go away Gar, I'm trying to die."

"Man, you are sick today. Come on, I'll take you to the church."

"Nooo..." He whined. "What's the point...? Kori hates me..."

"You're obviously delusional. You need help."

Richarde groaned and closed his eyes. "I want my mom."

"Can't help you there buddy." He hoisted the drenched acrobat over his shoulder. "I can take you to your girlfriend though."

He tried to reply, but all that came out was, "uunnggghhh..."

"Yeah, I know the feeling." He dragged his friend all the way back to the church.

When they got to the stairs, Victor came out. "I knew he was going to collapse! Still, I'm surprised he lasted so long."

"You saw him this morning?"

"Yeah, his house collapsed so he slept up in the tower. Didn't he tell you?"

"No! Fool doesn't tell me nothin'!"

Richarde gurgled.

"Well, let's take him upstairs to get him warmed up. You get his legs."

The two stumbled along up the stairs, bumping the poor boy against the wall more then once. When they arrived at the top landing, Victor called for Kori.

"Koriandre! We have a present for you!"

The girl skipped into the room. "A present?" Then she spotted her beloved. "Oh no!"

Victor smirked as she ran over and attempted to take him away from the priest and the jester.

"Whoa, wait, we'll set him down, he's pretty heavy."

"It is fine." She slipped her arms underneath and lifted him easily. She fretted over him as she walked into the main room.

"Hmm...stronger then she looks."

Victor chortled.

Koriandre set him down in her sleeping area. "He is freezing and soaking wet! What happened?"

"He fell." Gar provided.

"Well, let's get him out of those wet cloths and get him warmed up."

Gar and Vic had a field day as they pried the suit off of him. Kori followed with a cloth and dried him. They soon had him dried and tucked into bed, blankets piling over him.

"Okay Kori, Richarde rarely gets sick. But when he does, he gets really depressed." Victor told her.

"And this seems a lot worse then the last time. It's ridiculous."

"It is alright. I will watch him."

"I'll go get some hot tea for him."

"Oh! Go to Raven's! Her herbal tea is perfection."

"On it."

After Victor left, Gar sat awkwardly in the room as Kori tended to her friend.

"This is a nice place you got here." He commented.

"Thank you. It is not much, but it is home."

"You sure are lucky, all this space to yourself?"

"It gets lonely. But I am glad that Richarde comes and keeps me company." She dabbed his forehead with a wet washcloth.

"Good thing he has you to care for him, he can be so reckless."

"Why did he go out if he knew he was sick?"

He scratched his head. "I don't know all the details, but he wants to go off and see the world. So he works tirelessly to make money so he can go." He pursed his lips. "It's been his lifelong dream. Even when his parents were alive, he wanted to go all over the place."

Kori's heart grew heavy. "So he will leave?"

"Yeah, I'm surprised he hasn't yet."

She grew determined. "Then he must not have enough money! If he wants to go, we should do our best to help him."

"And you're saying..."

"Since he is sick, we shall go out and make the money!"

"Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, I don't know much about...this." He gestured to the room. "But you aren't supposed to leave it."

"We shall have someone keep watch, and if Slaed comes, then I shall run back to the tower!"

"It's an idea...but what would you do? Did he teach you how to balance on a pole?"

"No, but I think I shall sing...and maybe dance?"

He blinked. "Oh man, if you go out there and perform, he'll never have to work again!" He rubbed his hands.

She gave a soft small smile. Quietly, she leaned over and kissed Richarde's forehead. "Get well."

Outside, Kori hid her face under a hood of her borrowed cloak. Victor drummed a clay pot with two wooden dowels and Garfield played a Mandolin. A small, excited crowd gathered and watched the mysterious enchantress. She spun and swayed, barefoot in the snow, making her way through the group. Her angel-like voice carried as she danced with the crowd.

Many recognized her from the pageant, and were wary of even being by her, considering she was the Releaser. But the hard feelings were slowly resolved as Adelé ran up and was the first to dance with her. Maybe the angel of Notre Dame wasn't evil like everyone thought. She couldn't be, she was too happy.

Laughter bubbled up in her songs and people felt their spirits lift. Soon the small square was alight with dancing and merriment.

A little boy, the look out, ran to Kori and tugged on her dress. "The Judge is a block away!"

Immediately, Victor and Kori stopped. Garfield nodded to them. They gave a quick bow and fled to the church.

The crowd clapped as they left and threw donations in the clay pot. Gar smiled as he continued to play.

A few moments later, Slaed crept around the corner on his onyx horse. Just the sight of him gave the Jester chills. The man stopped and narrowed his eyes down at the little performer. Haughtily, he flipped a copper coin down into the pot and continued on his way.

"Oh goody," Garfield thought bitterly. "I can buy a peanut. Oh thank you my lord!" He stuck his tongue out in his general direction. "Jerk."

Back up in the tower, Kori was cleaning up when she heard the bell. "He is entirely too fast!" She groaned. "Richarde! If Slaed looks into my sleeping room, he will be spotted!" She wrapped him up tightly in a blanket and shoved him under the table in the main room. The table cloth hid him.

The door opened. "Hello Koriandre."

"Good afternoon master."

"Cold out today, isn't it?" He eyeballed her.

"I wouldn't know."

"Oh really?"

"No...Temperature does not affect me." She answered.

It wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for. "I thought I heard your voice, singing in the streets."

"Really? How odd. I have been singing today. Maybe it just echoed." She spoke almost flippantly.

He narrowed his eyes and drew closer to her. "You have snow in your hair."

"I was out on the balcony."

He was out of accusations, so he switched topics. "That acrobat you are so fond of was not out in the square today."

"I noticed." She spoke sadly. "I wonder if he is ill."

His observing eyes landed on the miniature of the church where the figure of his charge was embraced by the acrobat. "You care deeply about him."

She clenched her fists. "He helped me. He stood up for me. Why should I not feel affection for someone's kindness?"

Slaed took the figure and returned it to it's perch. "You can wish all you would like, but remember what I taught you. The world is cruel and wicked. It is I alone that you can trust in this whole city, I am your only friend. I am the one that cares for you; you are my unwanted burden that I take on because of the goodness in my soul. I am the only one who can see past your freakish appearance. How can I protect you child unless you stay in here? You are strange, you are a creature, and these are crimes of which the world shows little pity. You do not comprehend!"

She put her head down.

"Out there they will revile you as a demon. They will hate, scorn, and jeer. Why would you invite their calumny and consternation? Stay in here."

"I am a monster...I am ugly...I am cursed...no one will love me..."

"Do as I say, put all thoughts of the outside world away. Your pain will subside."

As a last flare of hope surged through her, she voiced her final concern. "And what of the acrobat who showed kindness?"

"He only felt pity, my dear. Anyone who is treats you nicely and says they care about you...they are lying. They want to use you. They want to take advantage of you."

"Do you?"

He slapped her. "Watch your tongue."

"Yes sir." She curtsied.

"Good night Koriandre."

"Farewell Master."

He made heavy strides and slammed the door. As the noise echoed through the tower, Kori collapsed into a chair, shaking. That was way too close! Richarde groaned from under the table.

"I am sorry my friend, I could not have you be discovered." She smiled as she lifted the blanket.

He still slept, only groaning in his dreams. She hoisted him once again and returned him to bed where she comfortably propped him up.

No matter how much she trusted Slaed, she couldn't believe him. There had to be more then one good soul out there that cared for her. The slumbering acrobat was proof of that enough. He came to her in his time of need, and yet asked for nothing more then a place to rest his head. She was taking care of him because she loved him.

Love? Is that what they called it? That funny little feeling that made a rippling effect in her stomach, the tingling in her spine, and the spark on her finger tips. Yes, she decided, she was in love. She had been all along, despite what Richarde said about not knowing each other long enough. She fell in love through the windows, watching him from day to day, amazed by his agilities. His form, his grace, his humor, his life...his freedom.

She looked down to the sleeping man nestled in her bed. As she swept the ebony locks from his brazen skin, she decided she didn't mind if he was out to use her. She didn't care at all. Maybe he would get what he wanted and then run away, like he wanted to. Heaven forbid he was only staying for her. She sighed like a whisper. Time was fleeting, and soon, their companionship would come to an end. She was sure of it. She had read many a times of the stupidity that came with the affliction, and she prayed that her mind would be stronger then her heart when needed. She always believed in the strength of emotions, and until time called for it, she would let her love guide her.

But when the time came...she had to let him go. After all, nothing lasts forever.

Unknown to Koriandre, Richarde had been awake when she came in, but he pretended to be asleep as so not to worry her. He heard everything. Everything that Slaed had said, every lie he spit out. The boy was furious, but hid it behind a sleepy mask. They were both kindred spirits; hurt, broken, and lonely. But now, they at least had each other. 'In his sleep,' he reached over and wrapped an arm around her waist and mumbled incoherently. The fact that she was tenderly stroking his cheeks eased his fear of her believing her so called Master.

He heard her smile and she settled next to him, sliding in next to him under the blankets. Her hands grazed his barren chest. She smirked, he blushed. Kori snuck a tender kiss and then whispered 'Sweet shlorvaks'. And followed him to dreamland.


	7. Instead of Hiding There

Spring. A time of rebirth, life, warmth. The air turned fresh and the sounds of nature returned. Love was in the air, and for our favorite jester, it meant a healthy preoccupation.

"Mr. Serieux, where's you're friend?" Adelé asked.

Richarde smiled. "He's visiting a lady friend."

"Is that where he's been all week?"

"Yes ma'am." He hopped down from his staff. "Was there something you wanted to talk to him about?"

She shook her head. "No, I was merely curious." She turned thoughtful. "Do you have a lady friend?"

He had to pick his words wisely. He knew the little girl was crushing on him. She had for the last few years. "Yes, I do."

Her eyes became wide in excitement. "Do you love her? Are you going to marry her?"

He was a bit surprised. "Maybe, someday hopefully..."

"Who is it? Do I know her? Is she pretty?!"

"She's very pretty. Her name is Koriandre."

"The Angel of Notre Dame!"

"Yep! Aren't you smart."

"I paid attention. She was down here once. I danced with her as the jester and the Reverend played music. It was that day you were gone."

Well, this was news to him. So Kori had gone out in the square to perform? "Do you know what she was doing?"

"Oh, she was singing and dancing! My mama gave her coins like you get."

That sent a pang in Richarde. Had she performed while he could not? He'd have to ask her about that later.

He idly kicked the small pile of earnings. As the coins shuffled around he did some mental math to figure out the days earnings. He may have been less then accurate with his reading, but his money had done wonders for his mathematic skills.

Figuring that he had done the days earnings, he packed up his stuff, bid farewell to Adelé and went to his newest hobby. Raven's bookstore was about a block from the church, the opposite side of the square from where they performed. He liked Raven, obviously not as much as he liked Koriandre, and definitely not as much a Garfield liked her, but her found her snarky disposition to be flavorful company.

And he loved the way she shot down every pathetic attempt of romance that Gar appealed with.

The little bell on the door rang. He walked in just in time to see a large leather binding sail through the air and smack Gar dead on.

"Get out." She hissed.

"Now darling!" He rubbed his sore face. "You don't really mean that! Honestly, my love!"

"Please stop, you're creeping me out."

"Just admit it Rae, you dig me. You're infatuated with me!"

"Yes, because asking you to leave is just a roaring sign of affection."

"Ha! So you admit it!"

Raven rolled her eyes.

Richarde interrupted the squabble. "Good afternoon, Raven."

Her attitude lightened, but not visibly. "Oh great, it's the other pest."

Richarde frowned. "And here I was going to give you a letter and book from Kori. But if you don't want it, then I'll find some other anti-social bookstore owner." He smirked.

She cracked a painful smile. "Welcome to Nevermore, how can I help you?"

"Much better! That wasn't so bad now was it?"

"Shut up and give me the book."

"Yes m'lady." He took the book from inside his suit and handed it to her with a bow.

She snatched it away with a sneer and put the note in the desk.

"Hey Raven, I am really cold, do you have any tea brewed?" He asked more earnestly.

When it came to Raven's tea, she was much more polite and patient. "Yes, give me a moment."

"Thank you."

After visiting (pestering) Raven, he went home to his battered and beaten down shack. The repairs were almost finished and the shack would be ready to be sold in about a week. The profit from it would hopefully put his funds over his budget. Only a week, and then his life would begin.

Victor provided him room and board in the church. He stayed with Kori for a few days, and then moved to a small separate room in the tower. He'd been there for the last two months, and he was content to stay there as well. The church retained heat and he had a real mattress to sleep on. He actually felt like an earl. For Richarde, life was looking beautiful.  
Kori watched the April drizzle from her window. The rain plinked against the glass as her breath fogged it up. She drew little pictures with her finger.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around her shoulders. Smiling, she leaned into his embrace, but only for a moment. Something was wrong.

Something bristly pricked her neck. "Koriandre..." A deep voice slurred. She smelled something on his breath, a scent that reminded her of the drink that Richarde and her drank with their dinner. What was it called? Wine? He had warned her what happens when one has too much. It seemed that her master fell pray to it.

She squirmed away from him and stepped back. Slaed's normal composure was gone. His hair was ruffled, his face red. His clothes were disheveled, and there was a stagger in his step.

"Master, what is the matter?"

"Koriandre..." He slurred again.

She was afraid and stepped farther away.

He became enraged. "Don't run from me Koriandre! Don't run from me!"

Even though he commanded it, her body would not respond.

In anger, he pushed the miniature of the city onto the ground, shattering it to pieces. Kori gasped in horror.

"Master please! Calm yourself!"

He stormed up to her, cornering her against the wall. She coward and clutched herself.

"You will not order me! I give the commands!"

She trembled as he grabbed her upper arms. "Master, you are not in your right mind! Please!" She begged.

"You will do as I say!" He shook her.

"Yes sir!" She complied.

"Remove your clothes." He spoke darkly.

She turned away from his enraged faced and shook her head.

"I said take it off!"

"No...no...no..." She whimpered.

He slapped her and shoved her repeatedly against the wall. "You will not defy me! I am your master! You would die without me! You owe it to me!"

She refused to cry or show any sign of weakness. But she couldn't control her violent shaking. She sent a desperate prayer and clutched the hem of her skirt. For Kori, life was looking bleak and ugly.

Night rolled around and Richarde decided to call it a day. He was rather exhausted, and headed to his room at the church. Scaling the side of the building, he wasn't about to go to bed without a goodnight kiss from his beloved.

He shook the rain from his hair. "Hey Kori, just came to-..." His speech stopped at the sight in front of him. For a moment, he registered Slaed in the room, but then he saw red. That was enough of an excuse to break their secret.

Richarde ran at the man and hoisted him off of Kori. He landed a heavy punch to his jaw. Three more hits and Slaed was on the ground, unconscious.

Richarde stood panting, rage coming off of him in waves. Ironic that this would all happen in a church. He grit his teeth, but could not bring himself to look at the victim. "Kori...did he...?" The words died on his lips.

"No. Just almost."

It served for only minor relief, only to know that she had not been violated. Keeping his back towards her, he shuffled and threw a blanket over her. "I'll be back." He assured. Gripping tightly, Richarde dragged Slaed by his collar down the stairs.

He seethed in anger as he chewed on his bottom lip, no doubt making it raw. His face was red with rage and his eyes were a dull intensity. If he wasn't so loyal to the law of God, Slaed would be dead by now.

Richarde kicked the door open and the bottom of the stairs. Two monks looked in interest.

"Richarde? What are you doing?" Victor approached him.

He turned to his friend, his nostrils flaring. "Take this evil, death worshipping, piece of garbage out of this church! Take him home, leave in the mud, throw him in the seine, I don't care!" He shouted.

Victor looked to the unconscious judge on the floor. "What did he do?" He asked darkly.

"Fortunately, it was what he almost did...this is really going to scar Kori."

A few ideas ran through Victor's head, but it shot up when he realized had it had to be. "I'll have him excommunicated!"

Richarde looked to the floor. "You can't."

"Why not?"

"Because Kori doesn't exist! Don't you see? He can get away with it because there are no consequences by law!"

"That son of a-"

"Watch it Victor."

The priest sighed. "How are your funds coming?"

"About a week and I'll be set."

"Does Kori know?"

He scratched his head. "I haven't really told her yet."

"Making it a surprise? You're just going to whisk her off her feet huh?" The he looked at the door to the tower. "She must be terrified."

"I'll take care of her." Richarde spoke softly. As he climbed the stairs, he took deep breaths and thought of a happy Kori. It served to calm him down and dissipate his anger. He opened the door quietly and came into the room.

"Kori?" He called softly.

He heard muffled sobs and found her in the same place as when he left. She wrapped the blanket tightly around her as her hair fell like a shield to hide her. Richarde sat across from her, resting his chin on his knees. What to say to someone it this situation? He wouldn't ask if she was okay, because obviously, she wasn't. He didn't want to say she was safe either, because Slaed would be back. He racked his brain for a conversation starter.

She beat him to it. She raised her head and looked at him with tearful forest eyes. "Why did he do that?"

He scratched his cheek. That was a good question. "Well..." He licked his lips, searching for the answer. "God instills a desire in men, women too, but it's more prominent in men. The desire is to be...intimate with an attractive member of the opposite sex. Now, in marriage, there is nothing wrong with that...but..."

"Outside of marriage it is a cardinal sin." She finished.

"Yes." He smiled. "God gives us this temptation to inevitably have to lean on him for strength. And as I told you before, wine inhibits thought processing."

"So you are saying Slaed does not lean on God for strength?"

"Well yes, that's definitely true."

"He does not fear the law?"

"That's what I was getting to. You don't 'exist'."

She looked at her hands. "I feel as if I am really here..."

He rolled his eyes and took her hand. "What I mean is, you don't exist in the outside world. You don't have citizenship, or rights of the people. No papers or documents. Kori, he can't get in trouble for what he did. Not in this world."

"But eternally?" She asked hopefully.

"I'm sure our Lord will punish him justly."

She gave a sad smile and then looked at him earnestly. "Do you...?" She let the blanket fall off her shoulder.

He quickly replaced it and shouted, "no!"

She looked a bit hurt.

"No, I mean, not now. Kori, I do think you are beautiful, but I also see you as a person, with a soul. Not a tool. I care about you too much for that. I choose to honor God's commandment of a marriage covenant."

She seemingly understood as she nodded her head and adjusted the blanket.

"Good girl, why don't you get settled into bed, and I'll come in in a minute to bid you goodnight."

She nodded with a small smile. She stood, pulling the blanket to cover her, and stepped over to her bedroom.

Richarde kept his back to her and started to salvage the pieces of the broken miniature. It took her years to build it, and only a few seconds for it to be destroyed. He dug out the mini Kori and figure of himself and sat them next to reach other on the table.

"Richarde?" A nervous voice asked behind him. As he turned, he heard the rustling of fabric as her blanket dropped to the floor.

The fact that she was naked was probably the last thought that went through his mind. The first thing he noticed was the blood, smeared across from a few scratches on her abdomen. Then he saw the scars, accented by the bruises. Then there was the size of her waist. If he put both hands on it, his fingers and thumbs would touch. He wanted to yell, cry, kill the man would did this to her, but all he could muster was, "Kori..."

She gave a small smile and almost bowed. "You have been the most loyal friend. Please, use me as you see fit. You do not need to be kind to me to get something you want. Richarde, I am yours to do with as you wish."

His jaw dropped as he stared at her face. She was serious! And earnest! He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

She shifted uncomfortably. "I am sorry that I am not in the best condition, if I had known, I would have painted over my mars."

"No!" He finally shouted. He threw the blanket over her again and wrapped it tight, pulling her into his arms in the process. "Don't you dare throw yourself away like that."

"But I-..."

"No. Kori, your body is a temple. No matter what Slaed has made you think. You have got to get that into your pretty little head! He's using you!"

"But he told me that you are using me!"

He pulled away and looked at her in shock. "Is that what you believe?"

She looked down. "I do not know anymore. I am...confused."

"Well..." He was almost bitter. "At least look at it this way. Who was trying to rape you and who's trying to comfort you?"

Fat tears rolled down her cheeks as she choked back a hidden sob. She had tried to be strong, but she didn't mind showing her weakness in front of him. "I am scared, Richarde. I fear he will hurt me more. I fear that I will die. I hate him. Oh I hate him!" She wailed into his shoulder.

"Hate is a strong word." He pet her hair.

"...I do not really hate him. But he angers me. He was the one who took me in, but he also tried to kill me in the first place. I cannot tell when he is truthful and when he lies. I hate what he does to me, but I pity him."

Richarde nodded. "He is a sorry excuse for a man."

She rubbed her eyes with the corner of the blanket. He soundlessly lifted her into his arms and cradled her gently. Her hair draped over his shoulder and her hands clasped behind his neck. He rocked her slowly, rolling on his heels. All the while, he murmured her song. The sweet tune of the violet soothed both of their souls. Richarde held his angel close and kissed her softly.

Only one more week.

The next morning, Slaed awoke with a spectacular headache and a feeling of dread. How did he get home? Why was his face bruised? Why was he hung over? Then it hit him. He got a letter from his bastard son, blackmailing him for money. He never cared for Grant. Joseph at least acknowledged that his father was a hypocrite and never talked to him. The letter was a threat to tell the bishop about his childhood and his unwed, murdered mother. Slaed had downed two bottles of Chardonnay and went to find pleasure in the only person who could stand his company.

Only because she had to.

Now that he was home, he tried to recollect his thoughts. That girl, that demon, looked so tempting. Her twisted, wicked magic must have enchanted him and he easily felt prey to her wiles because of the alcohol.

That must have been it.

But then there was the matter of the bruising. Kori would never hit him, no matter what the situation was. He distinctly remembered a streak of black and blue. A certain sharp blue. Where did he remember it from?

He dismissed the thought as he began to get ready for his day. First thing was to visit his pet and feed her, then a jammed packed day of torture and listening to pleads for life.

He loved his job.

Slaed mounted his horse and rode into town. As he came into the square, he saw the acrobat on his stick. He balanced with one hand on the wood, the other perpendicular to his body, and his legs straight up in the air. He was wearing his same uniform of black and blue.

A sharp blue.

Slaed narrowed his grey eye as he approached the artist. "Good morrow, my dear boy!" He plastered on a fake smile.

Richarde wobbled a bit as he was startled. He cracked an even faker smile. "Top of the morning, judgy!"

To cause less suspicion, Slaed flipped a silver coin in the money pile. "Do you ever get tired up there? Doing that all day?"

"Nah, I'm trained to do this. Besides, I don't stay up here all day."

"No?" Slaed grinned to himself.

"No, I have to eat to you know. And I have an active social life."

"Many friends?"

"The jester and the reverend...just to name a few."

"Girlfriend?"

Richarde paled, but tried to hide it. "No."

"That's right, I think I've heard about that...something about you being in love with the angel of Notre Dame...say, weren't you the one who stood up for her at the Festival de lá beautè?"

"Well, yeah...I mean, I didn't know who she was. I was just trying to be nice. She seemed very sweet and I hate to see a lady cry."

"How very touching. My dear boy, take my advice. Stay away from her. She is evil. She is conniving and is only out to hurt you."

Richarde narrowed his eyes. 'What a liar.' He thought.

"Well, it was...nice talking with you. I don't believe I ever caught your name."

"It's Serieux. Richarde Serieux."

"Well Mr. Serieux, good afternoon."

"Right back at ya judgy."

Slaed frowned at the obnoxious nickname and walked away. On the opposite corner, he stationed a soldier. "Watch him carefully. If he goes into the church, let me know."

"Yes sir." The guard saluted.

Slaed smirked.

Early evening approached and Slaed was enjoying a roasted deer with vegetables for dinner.

"Sir! The acrobat went into the church!"

The judge smiled and dabbed to corner of his mouth with a napkin. "Surround the building. We can't take him if he's inside, but as soon as he comes out, he's mine."

"But sir, what did he do?"

"Nothing that concerns you, Captain." Slaed stood and smoothed his robes. "Come, it's time we rid our fair city of the heartache."

Meanwhile, up in the tower, Richarde was giving the bell ringer dancing lessons.

"Now give me your right hand, and place your left hand on my shoulder."

"Like this?"

"Yep, and now just follow my lead...one, two, three, one, two, three..." He spun her gently in circles. Kori's nimble feet skipped in between his.

He found himself drawing closer to her as they moved, his hand holding her by the small of her back. Her hair tickled his arm and he couldn't help but smile. His thoughts trailed off and he stopped counting.

"Richarde? Is everything well?" Her fingers grazed the skin of his neck.

He smiled again. "Everything is perfect." He leaned in and gave her a tender kiss to her lips.

After a good long moment, he pulled away. She blinked at him. "What was that for? Are we saying goodbye?"

He flushed, embarrassed. "Uh...no...it was a sign of...affection."

"Oh!" She gave him a peck on the cheek. "I feel affection for you as well."

That eased his nerves and he gave a sigh of relief. "Shall we resume our lesson?" He asked as he took up her arms.

"Indeed." She grinned, but was cut short when a rumble cut through the air. It was Kori's turn to blush.

He chuckled. "We'll continue it after dinner then. Would you like your usual sandwich which mustard?"

"Oh yes please."

"Alright, I'll be back." This time he kissed her forehead and then made his way down the side of the church.

As his feet touched the ground, two pairs of arms wrapped around him. "What in the-...!"

The clopping of horse hooves hit his ears and he turned to see his enemy looking at him haughtily. "Well well, this is a surprise."

Richarde scoffed. "What are you going to do? Throw me in the stocks? For what? Fraud? Theft? Disturbing the peace?" It wouldn't be the first time, but they were always false accusations.

"Oh no my dear boy, you've committed a terrible crime, which needs...proper punishment."

"What's my charge?" Richarde asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"Why...falling in love with a demon of course."

His eyes widened. He had been so close! In a last ditch effort, he ran at the church, trying to break free from the tight grip. "Sanctuary! Sanctuary!" But the hold didn't budge.

Kori heard the ruckus and looked down. "Richarde!" She cried.

"Take him away!"

He struggled, not willing to go out without a fight. Suddenly, a sharp pain hit him in the back of the head and his vision went dark.

He was cold. His hands tied behind his back with thick frayed rope. His face hurt and nose bled. A single candle burned in front of him.

"How did you find out about the girl in the tower?"

"I told you, I was the first one who saw her when she came to Paris. I lead her to the church."

"You mean to tell me you remembered her after ten years?!"

"I never forgot her." He said with a small smile.

"You're the one who spread the story of her being an angel!"

"She is an angel."

"You idiot! You don't know anything do you?! She has the power to take a life! That is witchcraft! An act of the devil!"

"Your honor, we all have the ability to take a life. She at least does it peacefully...and under orders."

"So you do know." He narrowed his eyes. "I'll make you a deal. I'm getting old, and I need someone I can trust to take my chair when I'm gone. I can see some promise in you. I'll allow you to become my apprentice, and every once in a while, I'll allow you to see your sweet bell ringer."

That deal was ridden with lies and false promises. Richarde spit in the judges face. "I would rather die!"

"That can be arranged." He snapped. "Captain, prepare the guillotine in the square. Tomorrow at sunset, Mr. Serieux instantly loses ten pounds."


	8. Graced a Rosy Briar

It was the end. Richarde sat dismally in his holding cell, his head in his hands. Where did he go wrong? Was God punishing him for something? He shook his head at the thought. It just didn't seem fair.

"Richarde!" A voice cut through his thoughts. He looked up to the small window in the door and found a pair of solid green eyes smiling at him.

"Koriandre!" He cried joyously. He heard some tinkering and the door opened. "How did you get in here? How did you get the key?"

"I dressed in my Releaser outfit, they where too afraid to stop me."

He smiled. "Finally that job of yours comes in handy."

She took his hand. "We must leave. They will become suspicious if we stay too long."

He nodded.

Outside, Garfield, Raven, and Victor waited. Richarde's belongings sat at their feet. Their faces were grim.

"Guys? What's going on? What's with the long face?"

Garfield step forward. "You and I have to leave."

"What?"

"Slaed is putting an act in place tomorrow. He calls it 'L'épuration de Paris'" Kori said sadly.

"The cleansing of Paris..."

"Precisely. He did not give me details but he said the streets would be rid of the filth that liters them...including the people."

"So he's pretty much clearing out all the homeless and street performers."

"What will he do with them?" Richarde asked.

"Knowing Slaed..." Victor spoke up, "nothing good."

"Then we need to warn the others!"

Raven touched his arm. "We'll handle that. You and Gar need to get out of the city immediately."

Richarde nodded in understanding. "Alright...Kori..." He turned to her with a hopeful smile. "Why don't you come with us? Be free from Slaed, and never have to use your powers again. I have plenty of money saved! W-we could get married, you and I, and go to Austria. We can spend our days basking in the sun in fields of Edelweiss. It looks like snow, and the whole countryside will look so pure. We can live in a villa on the river and-and Garfield and Raven and Victor can live with us! Like one big family! You'll never cry a tear of sorrow again! Please Kori...come with us."

Kori was overjoyed. He had just laid out the perfect life for her. Spending the rest of her days by his side, content and free. But the dream came crashing down as she looked over to Garfield. She had no doubt that Richarde would give her everything she ever wanted, but it wasn't right. He had spent his life saving money to travel the world. She couldn't take his dream away.

"I cannot." She said simply.

He was baffled, but wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. "But...I love you."

"But I do not love you." She lied.

He stared at her wide eyed as she stepped out of his embrace. "What? But-...I thought-..." His mind was reeling.

_I do not love you..._

Tears stung at his eyes and his heart caught in his throat. Ten years, ten years of pining after her. Ten years of watching, waiting, dreaming, longing...all shot to hell. A small moan made its way off his lips.

"Richarde...please do not cry..."

A silken tear slipped down his cheek. "But I love you," he whispered again. He felt weak, childish. His heart ached and groaned. He clenched his fists and shut his eyes tight to hold everything back.

Koriandre pursed her lips. She felt awful, and her heart ached just as much as his did, but she refused to waiver. She placed a hand on his cheek. "It is alright Richarde."

"It's not okay!" He cried. "This ruins everything."

She smiled at him. "You are kind, handsome, and talented. You will find someone else...do not...worry about me."

"I won't ever love another as I love you." He clasped his hand over hers. "Never."

It was painful. She wanted to throw her arms around him and kiss him, letting him take her away from all the sadness. But she wasn't that selfish.

"I appreciate your loyalty." She simpered. "I'm sorry." She watched as he crumbled in front of her. His heart broke and turned to stone. More tears dripped off his chin. It reminded her of something...but she wasn't sure what. "You need to leave."

"Can't I at least have a kiss goodbye?" He reached for her.

"No." She closed her eyes. "Just think of it as...we are not saying goodbye."

He stared at her, pleading with his eyes. Sadly, he knew he would never see her again.

"Stay safe." Kori looked to Victor and they left to the church together, without another word.

Garfield gripped his friend's shoulder in sympathy. "We need to go."

Sucking up his emotions, Richarde wordlessly gathered his belongings onto his back and started off. Garfield followed behind before Raven grabbed his arm.

"You may annoy me to no end...but it'll be strange here without you. Take this please." She handed him a pouch of herbs. "For tea."

He kissed her cheek. "You're the best!"

Her face burned. "Go away."

He giggled and caught up with his friend.

After a few minutes of walking, a trilling meow echoed from behind them. Richarde turned to see his loyal companion bounding after him. "Silkie! Go back to the church, stay with Victor and Kori." The cat ignored his order and rubbed against his master's leg instead. He looked up with big blue eyes and gave a cute mew. "Okay, you can come."

"What?! You can't be serious!"

The acrobat lifted the feline up to his face and pouted, blinking his own big blue eyes. "Pwease unca Gar, I'll be good. Let me come wif you!" Richarde mocked in a high squeaky voice.

"Fine fine! He can come!"

Richarde grinned and set the cat on its feet.

"Question is…where are we going?"

"Verona."

"Wait wait wait wait...you mean like Verona, Italy? That's like..."

"About a week or so walking distance, yes."

"But why there?"

"My guardian lives there. He has a massive villa that we can stay in until this thing blows over."

"Richarde...I think there's something you should know..."

"Forget it. Let's get out of this rat hole city...never liked it here anyway."

So the duo left Paris and started their long trek across the border. Richarde didn't mind tapping into his vast savings, he saved enough for two people, after all. All the while, he felt a hole in his chest. He wasn't happy, as he left a chunk of his heart in Paris.  
It took them eleven days to travel to Verona by foot. They started out by boat, but Gar developed a taste of seasickness. They had to continue on foot. It was late when they arrived.

"How did you know where this place was?"

"I visited a few times as a child, and I write every once in a while."

"But you only learned how to write this year!"

"Well I dictated and Victor acted as a scribe."

"I see..."

Richarde knocked on the door. A withered old man opened and looked at the two boys. His face was stoic, only for a moment, and then he broke into a modest grin.

"Maestro Richarde, è più bello rivederti."

"Allo stesso Alfredo. Bruno è a casa?"

"Gli dirò siete venuti per una visita, per favore entrare."

"Grazie."

As they stepped in the house, Garfield gawked. "This place belongs to your legal guardian...and you lived in the streets?!" He marveled at the roman art on the walls.

"He offered to take me in...but I had my reasons."

"Let me guess. Koriandre."

"Actually at first it was a connection to my family at cirque de solis, Kori came a few years later."

"Still man...you've practically starved yourself, slept in the snow, and spent everyday scraping your earnings. You have tons of money, why don't you just let yourself relax?"

"Garfield," he spoke seriously, "I spent my entire life working so that I could relax. I'm done now Gar..." He sighed. "I'm done."

The jester looked over to his dismal friend. "Look, just...cheer up. I hate seeing you so...defeated."

"Sorry Gar...I'm afraid it will take me a while to get back up on my feet." Then he spoke quietly. "If I ever do."

"I understand...we'll take it slow, okay?"

"Yeah...thanks."

A tall, broad man came into the room. "Richarde, my boy, you're looking fine!" He came, grabbed his shoulders, and kissed his cheeks.

"Thank you, Bruno. You're looking lively as well."

"Oh thank The Lord!" Garfield called, "he speaks French!"

Richarde chuckled. "Alfredo does too, he just prefers Italian."

The jester eyed the old butler who smirked.

"Who's your friend?" Bruno asked.

"Oh, this is Garfield Cruex. He performs down the road from me. Gar, this is Bruno  _Iluomo Blocco_  my father's best friend. He's a retired acrobat."

"Best in Italy. Pleasure to meet you. Now my dear boy, what brings you to Verona? Especially with no notice..."

"Forgive us for the intrusion...but the...streets of Paris are under persecution. And as we are street performers, well...it's not safe anymore."

"Ah, I see...so you seek refuge?"

"Yes sir, please, I couldn't think of a better place."

"Oh no, Richarde, I told you that if you ever needed anything, I'd give it to you."

"Grazie, Bruno"

"Now Masters Richarde and Garfield, shall I show you to your rooms?"

"Do I get a bed?!" Garfield asked excitedly.

"Of course."

"And can I take a bath?!"

"Please do...and there with be a change of clean clothes as well."

"I'm the King of France!" He shouted.  
Bruno and Alfredo shared an amused glance. They were in for an entertaining stay.

Months went by. Garfield went back to work in the streets of Verona. The citizens gathered daily to see him perform, just like in Paris. But he liked the Italians better, they were nicer.

Richarde sat on the porch, looking out over the vineyard behind the manor. It was a beautiful summer day, but inside Richarde, there was a winter storm. On the railing in front of him sat a little figurine of a fiery red headed siren. Richarde figured she kept the other one of him. He stared at her tiny features and sighed.

Alfredo watched him from inside the manor.

"Any change?" Bruno asked coming up next to him.

"If anything, he's getting worse. The poor boy is absolutely miserable. I've never seen him so down."

"At least, not since his parents died." Bruno provided. "I wonder what happened..."

"Might I suggest asking Master Garfield when he returns?"

"I don't know, the guy seems kind of oblivious."

"Shall I talk to the young Master?"

"Yeah, that's probably the best option. You have a...motherly disposition." He smirked.

"Thank you sir," Alfredo droned.

The old butler stepped out onto the porch and took a seat across from Richarde, placing two cups of tea between them.

"Thanks Al..." Richarde whispered as he picked up the clay mug.

"If you'll permit me, what's happened to you, child? Every year, Master Bruno and I would come visit you in Paris. You always looked so happy. Are you quite homesick?"

He nudged the small figurine. "You could say that..."

Alfredo observed the trinket. "And who is this?"

"The young woman who stole my heart and won't give it back."

He simpered. "And you left her in Paris, didn't you?"

"I didn't want to...but she rejected me."

"You? Rejected? I find that hard to believe sir."

"Well, it's what happened." He sighed as he pulled his legs in. "Ten years, Alfredo. Ten. Years. I've been watching, waiting, hoping, dreaming...but she just cut out my heart and sent me away."

"I think you're being overly dramatic." He reached out and took the little figurine and examined it. "Why don't you tell me about her?"

Richarde sighed and threw his head back. "What can't I tell you? She's full of wit and grace; she's polite, but friendly and warm. She speaks her mind and she's not afraid to ask questions. And her thirst for knowledge...she has such a desire to learn! She's unbelievably positive in her next to impossible circumstances. Her kindness is unparalleled, and she's so sweet and tender, like an angel."

"Is she pretty?"

"Beautiful! Her appearance is ethereal, other worldly. She has luscious crimson hair that feels like silk. Her skin is a light chocolate, kissed by the sun. She has eyes like emeralds that sparkle in the moonlight and her lips are sweet violet petals swabbed with honey. Her voice is a song, the sound of a siren, it still echoes in my ears." He blushed as he realized how descript he was. "So yeah, she's pretty great."

Alfredo blinked. "She sounds heavenly, sir. Why don't you go back for her? You're more determined then this. If you really want her, I'm sure you could win her."

"I...don't know."

He stood up, straightening his uniform. "You've found yourself a treasure. Don't let her go."

Richarde sighed and returned his gaze out to the field.

Later that evening, Garfield returned home with a ripe money bag. "They loved me in Paris, but they down right adore me in Verona!" He cheeked.

Bruno approached him, looking sour. He grabbed him tightly by the shoulders.

"Fix your friend. His dramatic sighs are driving me out of what little sanity I have left!"

Garfield was startled. "He's still moping?! My goodness, it's been three months for crying out loud!"

"Richarde is like...a flower. He's vulnerable and sensitive. He puts his emotions on the line, not really caring what happens to them. He's not used to a blow like this."

Garfield wrung his hands. "I think...this may be a misunderstanding."

Bruno narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"

"Well, I think...for safety reasons...and other good natured intentions...said person who hurt Richarde...may or may not have lied to get him to leave."

Bruno lifted the boy off the ground. "Fix it you fool! Fix my son!" He shook him.

Gar's eyes rolled around before he shook his head. "Okay okay! Just...could you put me down please?"

The jester stood awkwardly at the door of Richarde's room. The acrobat hung upside down at the end of his bed, his hair sweeping the floor.

"Oh my friend, you are the epitome of pathetic hopelessness."

"Love you too Gar."

"Richarde, I have to tell you something. I tried to tell you earlier, I really did but you didn't want to hear it."

"What is it Gar?" The acrobat opened his big cerulean eyes and stared at him.

"Kori is even more selfless then you think."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Let me explain." He sat next to him on the mattress. "There was that day last winter where you were extremely ill, you remember?"

"Yeah, of course, my house collapsed."

"Well, we didn't tell you, but Vic, Kori, and I filled in for you."

"Why?"

"Because...I told Kori your dream of traveling the world and how you've been saving money for years so you could go."

"So she..."

"She lied so that you would leave without her. She didn't want you to give up the chance to travel."

Richarde sat up and grabbed the jester's collar. "But I saved enough for both of us! I wanted to take her with me to travel!"

"I didn't know that part."

"I was going to sell my shack and then ask her to leave with me! That was a few days away from when we left! Garfield, do you know what this means?!"

"I think so, but I hope not."

"Kori really does love me and we have to go back to Paris to get her."

"But-...warm comfy bed...clean clothes...a butler...and your giving all this up for a girl?!"

"We're coming back Gar, calm down." He smirked. "Besides, you'll get to see Raven."

The jokester blushed. "I'll get my bags."


	9. Its Stalk was Bent, It Hung Its Head

Richarde and Garfield rode into town on borrowed horses from Bruce. They both wore brand new uniforms made of rich colors and fine fabrics. The people would barely recognize them. As they were on the outskirts of the city, Garfield took notice to the sky.

"Is it just me, or does that look really really bad?"

The clouds were black as smoke rose from the rooftops. Blood red colour splattered overhead.

"I wonder what happened...fire?"

"Let's hope it wasn't on purpose."

Richarde nodded as a grimace rose on his face. "Hurry."

The streets were eerily bare, windows and doors were boarded shut. As they passed, windows creaked open in houses that were occupied. Tenants looked out and looked in shock and dread, slamming the shutters. Some even told them to turn around.

"I don't like this Gar, don't like it at all."

"We were gone three months."

"Seems Slaed's been busy."

They progressed further into town. An ominous feeling growing stronger as they drew closer to the church.

"Mr. Serieux!" A young voice called out from one of the houses. A little girl came running.

"Adelé!" Richarde hopped off his horse and held his arms out to her. She jumped into his arms and kissed him.

"I thought you were dead!" She cried, hanging onto him tightly.

"No no, child. We left because it wasn't safe. What's happened?"

"The Judge has gone mad! People are taken out of their homes and never return...Miss Koriandre is..." She burst into tears.

"She's what?! Adelé, what happened?!"

She calmed down enough to speak. "Slaed has her going all over the city, touching people. She's in the square right now!"

Richarde held her tight and then bid her to go back to her house. "Lock the doors and stay safe."

"Save her Richarde!" She pouted.

He nodded. "I will." He mounted his horse and steered it forward, determined. "Come on Gar."

The jester looked around. "Should have stayed in Italy," he sighed.

As the duo approached the square, shouting echoed in the air.

"Murderer!"

"This is unjust!"

"Free her!"

"You're the real criminal!"

Up on a stage in front of a crowd, Slaed stood with a man in a black hood, whip in hand. A feminine figure covered in a black cloak stood off to the side, her hands bound with thick rope.

"My fellow citizens of Paris." Slaed raised his hands, quieting the crowd. "I can sense your anger, but you are merely misguided in confusion. Today, L'épuration de Paris comes to an end! As our Lord sacrificed his own son, so shall I make a sacrifice for the sins of this city!"

"He's gone mad!" Someone shouted.

"Arrest him! Stop him!"

The soldiers stood silently off to the side, unable to do anything. Slaed was their commanding officer after all.

"You will all thank me for this!" He snapped his fingers and the man in the hood approached Kori.

Richarde jumped from his horse and started to sprint to the stage.

The executioner retched the cloak from her form and forced her to her knees. She gave a yelp of fear, but otherwise kept her mouth shut. The angel grit her teeth as he withdrew a knife and sliced through her beautiful crimson hair.

"Move it!" The boy shoved a patron out of the way.

The executioner pushed Kori over a rack, tying her hands out at her sides. He tore the back of her dress.

"Kori!" Richarde shouted. The crowd wouldn't move fast enough.

"The penalty for her crimes is death. But...we will settle for ninety eight lashes. One for each life she's taken."

"No!"

The executioner raised his whip. "One!"

Richarde slid across the stage and threw himself over her, using his body as a shield. He held her hands tightly and protected her completely. "No!"

The whip halted in the air as the man looked at the couple in confusion. He felt a qualm through his heart. He had a wife, he recognized love. His heart went out to the poor boy as he clung to his lover.

"Well?" Slaed asked, addressing the executioner. "Get on with it."

"But- but your grace..."

"Do it!"

Sadly, he raised his whip and began his strokes upon the innocent. "One!" Crack!

Each whip elicited a grunt from Richarde's lips. He clenched his hands around Kori's tiny ones and hid his face in the crook of her neck.

"Six!" Crack.

"Why did you come back?" She cried.

"You know why." He spoke in a whisper.

"You were not to know about that. You were to stay away and be safe."

"No one told me." He joked.

"Eleven!" Crack.

"Koriandre, I love you too much. I would rather die then live the rest of my life without you."

"Please do not say that. I do not wish for you to die!" She sobbed.

"Twenty one!" Crack!

He gurgled. "Well, that's unfortunate." He nudged her cheek. "I came to...take you back...with me...but if this is...the will...of...God..."

"Thirty seven!" Crack!

"Then so be it."

She cried as his gasping breaths came from behind her. The crowd was absolutely silent, sadness fell across the city.

"Fifty three!" Crack!

Gar had dismounted his horse and fought through the crowd. Now he stood in the front, biting his knuckles in apprehension.

"Sixty four!" Crack!

Raven watched quietly from the doorway of the shop. She prayed silently for her friends.

"Seventy eight!" Crack!

Victor watched from the window of the church. His fist balled up around the neck of a metal candelabrum. He sneered at the judge in anger.

"Eighty two!" Crack!

Richarde shouted again in a gasping breath as his blood splattered across the stage. His back was completely raw, the cat o' nine tails embedding nails and broken glass into his flesh and then violently ripping them out.

"Ninety six!...Ninety Seven!"

Slaed smiled in content.

"Ninety eight!"

Richarde released a horrible, heart rendering scream. His body violently shuddered as he pulled away from Kori and felt to the ground with a thump. His uniform was soaked with blood. The executioner dropped his whip, left the stage, and joined the mourning crowd. Slaed laughed as he sharply kicked Richarde in the side, forcing him off the stage. The crowd wasn't expecting it and failed to catch him. He fell into a muddy puddle.

Mothers shielded their children's eyes, men held the women as they wept. It was barbaric. The man had to be stopped.

Slaed shouted at Richarde condescendingly from above. While he was distracted, Garfield snuck up and cut Kori loose.

"And all this time I thought you were a great big coward. More concerned about your own life than that of the one you so 'love'. And yet, I was proven wrong. Seems like you took my bait like a starving child to rotten fruit. Your punishment is coming, it just took longer than I had expected."

Richarde was only able to utter a whisper of a groan.

Kori jumped from the stage and ran to her beloved. "Richarde! Oh Richarde!" She raised him carefully from the muddy ground and held him in her arms.

"...your hair...they cut...your hair..." He mumbled, reaching for it.

"It will grow back." She reassured, hushing him.

"Kori...I..."

"Hush darling. Do not speak."

"Enough of these melodramatics! Koriandre, I give you two options. Either you shall release him, or I will personally end his sufferings. And I guarantee it will not be pleasant." Slaed sneered.

Kori looked up at him tearfully. "May I have a few moments alone with him?"

"Only a few." He said quietly.

She turned to him and cupped his face. "Richarde, I am so sorry for everything that you have suffered for my sake. I never wanted to hurt you. I really do love you. When we were together, I felt like I belonged, as if I was not estranged. I am sorry that it had to be this way."

His breath was choking and wavering. "I knew if...I came back...I would be putting...myself in danger. Kori...if you are the one...to take me to...heaven, I will die...a happy man."

She pursed her lips and swiped the blood dripping from his lips. "Truly?"

"Yes. It's...okay." Tears that he had been holding in began to leak from the corners of his eyes. "I will always...love you."

"And it is too late for us to get married?" She smiled ruefully.

"Only if...you can handle...a long distance relationship."

"Time's up Koriandre." Slaed spoke from above.

Raven had come into the square now. She stood a little ways away with Garfield. Soldiers surrounded them on all sides, forbidding them to do anything.

Kori raised the wounded boy closer to her and swept his sweaty hair from his face.

"Does it hurt?" He whispered. "When you release?"

"Those who have a solid foundation in The Lord have peace in their final moments."

"No, does...it hurt...you?"

"It hurts my heart." She simpered.

"I will not lie...I am...afraid."

"There is no reason to be." And with that, she pressed her lips to his gently in a farewell kiss. A faint green sparkle emitted from where they connected.

Richarde's body relaxed. His bleeding ceased and his shuddering stopped. His last breath fanned across her face and she breathed it in deeply; trying her best to take him in, remember him in this final moment. His hand fell limp at his side. She pulled away and looked at him. His dull and lifeless eyes stared upwards at the sky. She closed them to sleep.

"Take him away."

Kori clutched tighter as the guards came closer. "You will not touch him!"

"Let him go Koriandre, it's a lifeless shell."

"No!" She screamed.

The guards pulled him out of her embrace, despite how tightly she was holding him. They tossed his body carelessly on a wooden cart and took him away. His foot dragged across the ground.

"It is finished." Slaed smiled.

"KYRIE ELEISON!" Kori shouted to the heavens. The death bell in the tower rang with a crack as she wept. The crowd trembled, knowing that no one was up there to ring it.

Slaed jumped down and raised her to her feet. He smirked at her. "I knew someday you would prove to be useful to me. However, your use has worn out. You're much too unstable to keep around. I can't think of a better punishment then to let you live...but from now on, you're on your own." He turned and walked away from her. "I wash my hands of you. You have your freedom, but good luck surviving in this world after what you've done." He turned and smirked at her. "You festering infection of the wound that is this broken city."

Kori stared at him as he walked away. She wanted to shout profanities at him, throw rocks, maybe even tackle him to the ground. Instead, she stood silently, staring daggers into the back of his head.

The crowd dissipated after the tragedy. Some of the people looked to the poor girl in sympathy, but moved on without a word.

Raven took her hand. "Let's go back to the church. Nothing good will come from being out here."

Kori nodded and followed her friends. Inside Notre Dame, Kori ran into Victor's arms and wept into his shoulder.

"Oh child, it's going to be okay." He pet her cropped hair.

"I murdered him Victor! He is dead because of me!"

"No, no..."

"Yes! I am the one who released him! I killed him!"

"Kori, did you hate him?"

She sniffed. "No."

"Did you want to kill him?"

"No."

"Did you contemplate it? Did you think about killing him?"

"No! Nor would I dream of it!"

"Did Slaed hate him?"

"Possibly..."

"Did he want to kill Richarde?"

"Yes..."

"Did he tell you to kill him? Was it his idea and plan?"

Kori was silent.

Gar rested a hand on her shoulder. "You didn't kill him Kori, you saved him pain."

The young girl wiped her eyes and stepped away from her brother. She looked guiltily at the red mark that stained his robes.

"I have other clothes. Don't worry about it."

Raven nudged her. "Why don't you go upstairs and get changed? I'll brew you some tea."

Kori cocked her head to the side. "I do not believe we have formally met. You are Raven?"

"Yes." She smirked.

"Under normal circumstances, I would be ecstatic to be meeting you. I hope you forgive my cheerless disposition."

"It's fine; I'm not really a...cheerful person."

"Still, I thank you for your concern."

"Richarde was my friend as well."

Kori sat up in her tower at the table of her once glorious city. Pieces had been salvaged, but only a few. The miniature of Richarde was one of the few. He sat front and center as she played idly with him.

Garfield entered the room solemnly. He carried Richarde's pack with him.

"Hey Kori...I thought you'd might want this." He pulled out one of his spare uniforms and handed it to her. She took it in reverence and held it, rubbing the soft fabric against her cheek.

"I thank you Garfield." She spoke quietly.

"And this too." He handed her the miniature of herself. "He carried it with him everywhere."

She set it next to the other figure on the table. "He really loved me." She sadly smiled.

"More then you realize." He sighed. "Are you okay to be up here by yourself for the night? Or do you want me to get Raven?"

"I do not understand." She cocked her head.

"You're not going to throw yourself off the tower to be with him or anything, right?"

"Oh no! He gave his life for mine; I shall not let that sacrifice be in vain."

He patted her head. "Good girl. If you ever need anything, you have us. We'll take care of you, I promise."

"Thank you my friend."

Garfield left her in silence. Only the crackle of the fire filled the emptiness that surrounded her. She expected pain. She expected a gaping hole in her chest slowly ripping open as the knowledge of his absence set in. But it never came. Instead, a warm fluttering feeling settled in her heart. It felt like a bird, light and vivid. She touched her chest in wonder.

"Richarde?" She whispered. The fluttering intensified and warmth spread throughout her body. "Is that you? Can you hear me?" The feeling responded to her and she couldn't help but be happy. "Oh Richarde, you are not gone after all!" She sang. Realization dawned on her. She breathed in his last breath, so along with it was his vapor. He was inside of her, she carried his spirit.

"I can feel you. I want you here, in my heart." She whispered. "Is it selfish to keep you here?"

Her heart palpitated deeply.

"Why did this happen?"

"Because it is planned." A deep voice spoke.

Kori spun around to come face to face with a man she had never seen before. He looked very familiar though. His red hair was bright like hers and his solid emerald eyes stared into her. She knew him...somehow. "Who are you?"

"You do not know?"

"Are you from my life before I came here?"

"Yes."

"I have no memory of back then."

He nodded. "That makes sense. I am your brother, Ryandre."

"I have a brother?"

"Quite a few really, and sisters."

"Do I also have a mother and father?"

"You have a Father who is great and powerful." He said vaguely.

"Where am I from? Surely not from France, for I have never seen any others like me."

"You are neither of France, nor of anyplace near." He reached out. "Take my hand and you will remember."

Hesitantly, she slipped her fingers in between his and was instantly flooded with memories. A few very vivid.

There was a desert. Many houses built of mud littered the landscape. She surveyed them in sorrow. She approached each one, but did not enter ones with blood painted on the doorways. In the unmarred houses, she touched the faces of children, only one in each family.

She entered a large palace and passed many guards who were blind to her. She stopped in the room of a boy, adorned with marks and jewels, the sign of royalty. She touched him, and he fell into eternal slumber.

As she left the city, she heard the sounds of mourning and wailing. Sadly, she knew her job was finished.

More images flashed in her mind before settling on another scene. It was a stadium, full of people. Ropes crossed over head and lights shone brightly all around.

But the atmosphere was not jovial. People were exiting the area quickly, panic dwindling around them. She settled on her targets. A young boy knelt on the ground and wept. Next to him on each side, his parents held him, consoling him. But on the ground laid their bodies, bloody and mangled. She stood in front of them and held out her hands.

"Come," she beckoned. "It is time to go home."

The mother looked up to her. "What about my son? He's so young! We have no money for him to live off of! He can't survive on his own!"

Kori approached the couple and kneeled in front of them. "You three have been diligent and steadfast in love. The Father will not ignore the pain of his children. Your son will be cared for. I personally will see to it."

"Thank you!" She cried.

"But be warned. He will not live in luxury. If he lives according to the way of The Lord, he will face hardships and persecution. As the world hated The Son, so shall it hate his followers."

The man looked up to Koriandre. "That is more important than earth bound riches."

"What is his name?"

"Richarde Serieux."

More memories of people and wonderful places came to mind, each ending with a visit to young Richarde. Two years she watched over him as he struggled to survive. A few times she was able to get him food or money, but it wasn't enough. She wanted to comfort him when he cried. Play with him and keep him company when he was lonely. He was a cheerful child despite the circumstances and she knew everything about him. She just wished he knew she was there. The poor angel had fallen in love with the boy, but he didn't know she existed.

"My Lord," she approached The Father's throne, "there is a young boy who I am concerned for."

"Yes, I know Koriandre. I can see it in you. I also know you have an idea. Care to share with me?"

She smiled. He knew everything. "I wish to go down to Earth and be with him. I..."

"And do what exactly?"

"Watch over him. If only from a distance. I know I've been doing that already but..."

"You wish for his companionship."

She looked to the ground and nodded.

"It will not be easy, you know this. Humans are very emotional, and you will be distilled with those feelings. You will feel pain. More pain then ever before."

"I am willing."

"Then go, and remember not where you came from."

Kori snapped back into reality and stared at her brother.

"I am..."

"The Angel of Death."

At the sound of her real name, her eyes glowed. Her ruby hair flared like fire, illuminating the room. Large wings the color of night dusted with ash sprouted forth from her back. Her reflection in the mirror across the room caught her sight and she wondered in awe.

"Is this the end then? Have I failed in my job to protect and care for him?"

"No dear sister, you cared for him well. There is no end, only rebirth." He pointed to her chest. "You must let him go."

"But-..."

"He cannot stay there. You will always carry a part of him with you, but his spirit must be free. He will be alright."

She dejectedly released him. His spirit sat in her hands in the form of a bird. A robin, the sign of spring, rebirth. He flew around her and then took off into the night sky through the window.

Lonely tears made their way down her cheeks.

"You have done the right thing, my sister. I love you and will see you soon." With that, he disappeared.

She looked back to the mirror where her normal human form showed. Her hair was full length and her wounds and scars had vanished. She turned her eyes to heaven. "My Lord, I wait for you."

Across town, a bell in the graveyard rang.


	10. Let Me To The Valley Go

The venerable Judge Slaed de Wilson stood at the window of his study at the Palace of Justice. The sun had just set and now he was looking out over the city. It was empty. No lights could be seen from the windows. Not a shout of a child nor of animals. Everything was silent. The city had lost its heart.

He expected joy, content. He expected an overwhelming sense of pride and great accomplishment. Instead, he felt guilt and conviction.

He looked to the church. "Beata Maria, I am a righteous man. I am proud of my virtue. I know that I am purer then the crowd that gathers out there for entertainment. They are common, vulgar, weak, and licentious. So tell me, Maria, what have I done wrong? What is this spirit inside that so torments me as the King Saul?"

He stepped over to the fireplace and stared at the dancing flames. "Why do I see him everywhere? Why do his dying eyes scorch deep into my heart? I see his face, full of laughter one moment, and then pouring forth pain the next. I hear his voice, strained, pleading...sacrificing. It's driving me mad! I can't help but feel a deep burning hate for him. A hellfire. That hatred so deep...it turned me to sin. I hope he tastes the fires of hell for what he has done!"

Images of the clergy surrounded him. They were pointing and accusing. "Quia peccavi nimis cogitatione verbo er opere."

"It's not my fault! The gypsy, he is the one who brought this upon himself! I did what was best, I did right! This is God's will! He-he made the Devil so much stronger then mere men!"

"Mea culpa."

He recoiled. "Protect me Maria, don't let this unwarranted guilt faze me and crumple what I have worked so hard to accomplish in the name of The Lord! Don't let that boy's screams of agony sear my ears and shatter my heart. I have done no wrong!"

"Kyrie Eleison."

"God have mercy on me." He cried as he fell onto his face.

"Kyrie Eleison."

It was dusk. Garfield sat in the cathedral, staring at the stained glass window. He had no where else to go now. Richarde promised that they would return to Italy after he saved Kori. He could return by himself, but Bruno would most likely skin him alive. Besides, he didn't remember how to get there.

Paris was a ghost town thanks to Slaed. Luckily, people began to realize the mess was over and started to come out of hiding. Some had even come to the church to thank God for their safety.

"I'm surprised I came out relatively unscathed."

The door opened and Raven slipped in. The jester blushed and waved to her. She gave a soft smile and sat next to him. "You are troubled too?" She asked.

"Yeah, for the most part. Richarde was my partner in crime. It's going to be extremely odd on the streets."

"He was my best customer. It was because of him I knew Kori...and you." She smirked.

"Shop not getting any business?"

"Not really, no. More importantly, my father came home and he brought his new wife."

"Oh..."

"He gave my shop to her as a wedding present."

"Well...that's not fair. Is she at least going to let you keep working there?"

"Oh yes. I'm allowed to work the whole thing...with little wages."

"That's ridiculous!"

"No kidding. It's not worth it either. She's a complete pain."

He held out his hand. "Welcome to the unemployed."

She gave a sardonic smile. "Thanks."

A large dark skinned man with a glass eye walked down the corridor with a sack on his shoulder.

"Victor? Is that you?" Raven asked.

"Yes, it's me."

"What's with the normal clothes? Run out of regal robes?"

"Nope, they took 'em from me."

"What?! Why?!"

He sat down in the pew behind them with a heavy thump. "You can't be a priest if you're excommunicated."

"Wait seriously?! Just because you were helping Richarde? Or-..."

"I'm a Protestant." He said bluntly.

"Oh."

"I'm lucky I'm not dead."

"I don't think we could handle losing another friend."

There was a creak behind them. The group ceremoniously turned to see a pair of green eyes glowing from the back staircase.

"Come on out Princess." Garfield smiled. "Join the club."

Kori came into the room and sat quietly next to Victor.

"Didn't they cut your hair?"

"Yes."

"But-..."

"It grew back."

"That was fast." Garfield admonished.

"Yes, indeed."

Victor eye balled her. "You're looking rather healthy. Are you hiding something from us?"

She just looked at him and smiled. "I'm healing."

The other three looked at each other and shrugged.

Four lost souls. Refuge taken in a church. A haven for outcasts, and that's exactly what they were.

"Well, this is a fine little mess." Victor sighed.

"You can say that again."

Kori looked to the high stained glass window. "And yet, for all the mess that was involved, I know it was all divine."

Raven gestured for her to continue.

"We all came together because of Richarde. I never would have met Victor if he had not shown me to the church. Garfield and Raven were introduced by him as well. We have become close friends, and I do not believe it was strictly coincidence."

"You make a very good point. He was like the linchpin to our little clan."

"He was like our leader."

"And now he's gone."

Silence stretched over the group as they unanimously sighed.

"Why did it have to be him? He was one of the nicest guys I ever knew!" Garfield admonished.

"Being in France, that says a lot."

"Still, he was totally innocent. Slaed granted Kori freedom right after he was released. It's total bull!"

"He was jealous." Kori spoke up. "Richarde and I had established a relationship with more trust, love, and loyalty that Slaed and I never had. And it was only over a short period of time. I think he was afraid that I was going to leave."

"Were you?"

"Richarde asked me to leave with him. I would have said yes if I had known he had prepared."

"I guess that's my fault, huh?" Garfield grimaced.

"No one is at fault. Simply misunderstandings that got in our way."

"I'd feel better if I apologized."

"You are forgiven. Most heartily."

The group sat in silence once again. The monks were not singing and those who had been praying had left. They were alone. Victor stood up.

"I need some noise. How about you all?" He walked over to the doors and pulled them wide open. The echoes of the flickering rain filled the sanctuary.

"Much better."

Each of them came from a different background, and yet, they were able to unite. Just because of one man's influence. A true miracle by any man's standards. Here they waited for God's instructions. What else was there to do when you had nowhere to go? Footsteps came from the entrance and the group didn't bother to look to see who it was.

"Well, well. Given complete freedom and still you are unable to leave the place that held you hostage. Poor child."

Kori turned and glared at her ex-guardian. "I believe they do not allow murderers in the church." She spat.

"Then why are you here?" He smugly replied. Secretly, he was hoping that no one was in the church so that he himself could find sanctuary. Their presence gave him a heavy feeling in his gut.

"So, your honor, what brings you here?" Raven challenged.

"Just doing my evening rounds," he spoke nonchalantly. "I guess it's a habit to come here. But I have other business to attend to with the Archbishop." He snottily raised his nose in the air with his arms crossed behind his back.

Once he was out of earshot, the jester looked at his friends. "I seriously hate that man."

Victor rolled his eye. "Join the club. Nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Bent on doing anything but the will of God." Kori added sadly.

"Only lying and doing what he wants to do." Raven droned, arms crossed.

"And there's not a thing we can do about it." Garfield finished.

A long stretch of silence went by.

"Unless...there is."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, but there has to be something."

Kori spoke up from her bubble of sorrow. "Richarde would know what to do. I wish he were here."

"Well he's not!" Victor scolded. The rest of the group looked at him in shock and light anger. "Sorry, but just wishing for him to come back isn't going to do any good. It'll just be harder. Let's avenge him, let's stop Slaed!"

"So what's the plan mighty leader?" Raven asked, lifting an eyebrow.

The cripple furrowed his brow. "Give me some time. I'll think of something."

Another man came up to the entrance of the church and kicked the mud off of his boots.

"Ah, I figured I would find you three here. Especially you, Miss Angel of Notre Dame." He smiled.

"Who are you?" Kori asked shyly.

He put a hand on his chest. "Pardon my rudeness. My name is Benett Dupree. I am the one who...buried Richarde."

"So, you're the undertaker? You must have been busy the last few months." Raven spoke bluntly.

"Yes." Mr. Dupree said sadly. "Business is good."

"What did you come here for Mr. Dupree?" Victor asked, sensing the man's anxiety.

"I just wanted you to know he's been put at rest. His grave is by his parents'. It's under an oak tree and surrounded by flowers in the spring. It's a very lovely spot."

"Is it marked?" She asked, knowing that no one had paid for his burial. Slaed wanted it that way.

"No." The man said solemnly.

"Was he smiling?" She asked again.

He looked her in shock and confusion. "Um yes...actually he was."

She sat back in her pew and looked skyward. "Then he is home."

Slaed heard the entire conversation as he was coming down the hall. Everything echoed in the church. Even Koriandre's sadness.

"Guilt is a weakness." He told himself. "You are lying to yourself, you did nothing wrong. Nothing." Over and over he convinced himself that he was right. Slowly, his heart turned to hardened stone. He changed. Much for the worst.

God turned his head away in sadness from the man who did wicked and evil things, and proclaimed his name in a silver tongue. But there was no love, and compassion. The Holy Spirit never touched him. The man was alone, decidedly abandoning the God he had followed for so long. The gates of heaven would never open for him.

Slaed stepped into the room where the group was still talking to Mr. Dupree. He gave a nod in greeting to the undertaker and then left through the open door without a word.

Koriandre never acknowledged his presence. Instead, she reached over and held Victor's hand. Well, only three fingers since his hand was so large.

"I just came to say that. I'm sorry we could not have a funeral for him, but the pastor at home said a few words over him."

"Thank you." Victor nodded.

"Good afternoon," he spoke and left.

Once silence reigned over the church again, a moan cut through the air before Kori collapsed against Vic's shoulder in tears. His hand came up and smoothed her hair as she clutched to his tunic.

"Shh, it's okay. Let it out." He soothed her.

"Looks like the emotional turmoil finally caught up to her." Raven acknowledged sadly.

"Poor girl. She's suffered so much. I'm glad she's free of that monster."

"He is a monster!" Kori spoke through grit teeth in anger unlike any other they had seen. "A pure monster! He doesn't have a soul!" She broke down into tears all over again. "My whole life has been one of a caged bird. I never knew the beautiful things in the world until Richard. And now..." Her voice hitched. "The world seems so ugly."

Victor simpered and lifted her chin. "Only for now. It'll be better soon. We'll take care of you Koriandre. I promise."

"Really?" She wiped her eyes.

"Of course, would I lie to my sister?"

She finally smiled, albeit sadly. "Thank you Victor."

Suddenly, there was a clamor out in the town. They could hear people shouting in terror and slamming doors in the distance.

"More trouble?" Garfield mused.

They looked out the door as the distress grew louder.

"What's happening?!" The townsfolk shouted. "It's coming this way!"

Out at the end of the street, coming across the bridge over the river, a figure lingered. It was hazy and indiscriminate. A flash of lightning illuminated the sky and cast the figment into darkness. It was all black, like a shadow.

"That does not look good." Garfield frowned.

"What is it?" Kori pondered.

Victor shrugged. "Something big and bad."

More slamming and shouting echoed from the streets.

"Maybe we should close the doors..." Raven suggested.

"Good idea."

Victor groaned and stood. He had just opened the door, and now he had to close it. As the wood creaked, he heard someone shout and his blood ran cold.

"It's heading towards the church!" The doors shut heavily.

"Should we...maybe...bar the door?" Gar suggested.

"No, it'll be fine. Those doors are extremely heavy. You saw how much force I had to use to close it, and I'm an ex-soldier. Besides, if it's evil, this is the safest place to be."

"I guess you're right. Still, I'm curious to see what it is."

"Don't antagonize it Gar." Raven reprimanded.

He raised his hands in defense. "I won't!" Still, he ran over to the window and looked out. The figure was in the middle of the square now.

"What does it look like?" Victor called.

"Can't really tell. It's black...it looks lost?" he guessed. "It's moving really strangely. Staggering..."

"It's not a person is it?"

"If it is he's really deformed."

Kori had been silent the whole time. She released a worried sigh.

"Come away from there Gar, and blow out the candles by the windows."

The jester did as he was told and returned to his seat. The group sat tense and waited.

Soon there was a pound on the door that sounded like a crack of thunder. Then the handles sounded like they were being tugged.

Kori closed her eyes and bit her lip.

More raps on the door were followed by a painful shout of agony.

"What is that?" Gar grimaced.

"Poor soul." Vic shook his head.

The apparition gave a final knock on the door and then shouted, "KORI!"

The group stopped and stared at the door in utter disbelief. The hinges creaked as the doors slowly inched open. They were in too much shock to move.

There in the entrance to the church stood a dead man. His form was covered completely in mud. He was drenched and blood still drained from his back. His body was bent awkwardly and his movements were stiff. His skin looked like snow.

The boy raised his head and focused his bloodshot eyes. "KORI...WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!" He shouted in a gritty voice. His hands reached out and groped for her.

"Richarde!" Kori was the first to recover, since she could fathom his resurrection. She ran to him and caught him as his legs gave out. He gripped her and sobbed.

"I...I saw myself die...I saw them drag my body away...Kori I felt it! I felt your heart breaking!" He gasped as he took oxygen into his withered lungs. "I saw everything...what your brother showed to you! You did this!" He broke down and cried. She held his head to her chest and cradled him.

"What does he mean that you did this?" Victor questioned.

She looked at him with glowing eyes. "I held his spirit inside of me. Because of that, The Father allowed him to come back to life."

The others stood in silent awe and wonder. Questions rushed through their heads, but now was not the time.

"What are we doing?" Raven reprimanded, standing up. "Get some clean cloths, bandages, medicine!"

They each scurried off and left the invalid with the angel.

Kori grinned at the group, she knew she could depend on her friends. She turned her attention back to the weeping boy in her arms. Richarde was not just in spiritual pain, but physical. His body had stopped processes, blood flow, oxygen...everything had ceased. Things had begun to decay, to rot. It was evident by the cracking skin of his face and swollen features. His nose dripped blood from burst capillaries. His hands shook as he held tight to her tunic. His breathing was harsh and labored and his throat was dry. His cheeks were soaked with tears.

"Kori, it hurts...it hurts!" He groaned.

"It is alright, my dear. You shall be safe soon." She stood with him in her arms and soothed him as she carried him up the stairs into the tower.

She sat him in the small chair and got to work ridding him of his muddy, soaked clothes. He whimpered as the fabric stuck from the dried blood.

The rest of the team was up soon enough with bandages, hot water, and medical thread.

"Anybody know how to do this?" Gar asked.

"Yeah," Vic pointed at himself with his thumb. "After I lost my eye, they allowed me to stay for another year as a medical officer."

"Well then, onward Christian soldier."

It took them hours. Hours of screaming and bleeding to get all the mud out of his wounds and have him stitched and bandaged up. Richarde did not resemble his old self at all. The poor boy was full of anguish as he grabbed his head and rocked back and forth.

"We have to hold him down; he's going to tear his stitching!"

The two boys grabbed his arms as he kicked and howled. He wriggled out of their grasps and flailed.

"Kori! You're the strongest! Do something!"

Bravely she sucked up all of her emotions and slapped him soundly across the face. He stopped instantly and then flopped against the mattress, knocked out.

Victor wiped the sweat from his brow as Kori covered the injured bird with a blanket.

"Well, we got our leader back..."

"But he's a bit insane." Gar twirled a finger around by the side of his head.

Raven raised an eyebrow at her friend. "Yeah? How would you feel if you had been dead for two days, only to wake up in a coffin underground?"

Gar blanched. "I guess I would be the same."

"Just give him a few days to heal and he'll be...relatively normal."

Kori nodded solemnly and pulled the curtain closed, leaving Richarde to sleep in peace.

"So..." Gar looked at Kori. "What was Richarde raving about when he came in? What did he mean by 'I saw everything?'"

"And you have a brother..." Raven pressed.

"Many actually. And sisters too. I learned of my origins from him. He visited me the night that Richarde died. I am not of this world."

"Well that's obvious."

Kori smiled. "From your folk tales, I would be known to you as the Grim Reaper. Slaed learned of my abilities early on and took advantage of it. I answer now only to God."

"Wait, so..." Victor tried to wrap his mind around the knowledge he had just learned.

"I am the Angel of Death. As spoken in the book of Exodus."

The room was still as a grave.

"Well," Gar finally broke the silence. "If you're the one who will deliver us when we die, then alright!"

Kori smiled at her carefree friend.

"Well, I guess we just wait until Lazarus wakes up. Nothing else we can do."

"Man," Gar smiled gleefully, "Slaed's gonna pee himself when he sees this!"


	11. Sweet Humility

"...still, it was soup. Why would someone give up their birthright for that?"

Garfield and Victor were having a Bible discussion. Raven had fallen asleep sitting next to Gar, now she used his shoulder as a pillow. Kori sat next to Victor with her head resting on her knees. She had been waiting patiently and quietly.

"Well, he had been gone in the fields for days, probably starving. And you have to think, what else did they have to eat?"

"Still, it's soup! That is not the equivalent of a birthright! Why not trade a goat or something?!"

Victor chuckled. "It serves as an example of how desperate we can be to get what we want."

"Wow, how's that for practical application to recent events?"

"Congratulations, you just applied the Bible to real life."

Koriandre listened with little interest as her friends chatted. Her ears were tuned for a different sound.

"So then how did his father let him get away with it? I mean, if it was my kid I'd be like, 'Jacob, now give the birthright back to your brother, don't try to trick it out of him.'"

"If it was me, I'd say, 'Esau, why are you so foolish?'"

The two boys laughed before Kori jumped to her feet. They hushed before another ghostly groan moved through the room. Kori delicately moved the curtain aside to let sunlight into his resting place.

Richarde did not look much better than the night before. His eyes were shut tight and he clenched his sheets.

"Richarde? Darling, are you alright?" She reached out and held his hand.

He looked up at her with confused eyes. "W-where am I? Is this heaven?" He pulled his hand away and wrapped his arms around his chest. "No, this is not how it should feel. Why am I so cold?" He asked himself.

Garfield nudged Raven to wakefulness and Victor signaled them to leave. Richarde was better off with little company.

Kori drew another blanket over his tense shoulders and gently soothed his aching muscles. He looked up to her with confusion on his face. "What's going on? Where am I? Who are you?"

Kori felt a pang in her heart at his words. "You do not know?"

He fervently shook his head trying to clear his mind. "I can't think clearly. Are you an angel?"

She smiled sadly. "Yes, I am." She reached out and cupped his face. "Your guardian angel."

He blinked and looked at her hard. "K-Kori?"

She nodded. With a sigh of relief, Richarde threw his arms around her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck as his strong arms almost crushed her. Kori didn't mind, just simply smoothed his hair.

"Kori, I missed you so much. I was so worried, I thought you didn't care, but your voice kept echoing in my head and I had to come back. Oh Kori, I love you!"

She kissed his temple. "I love you as well." She relinquished her grip and held him at arms length. "Can you handle more company? Your friends wish to see you."

He looked at his appearance. "Can I have some clothes first?" He asked sheepishly.

A few minutes later, Richarde wore a red tunic with loose black pants. Koriandre, in the mean time, invited Raven, Garfield, and Victor back into the room. They sat in a ring on the floor, all attention on Richarde. He still seemed skittish and he was shaking. Kori sat next to him with her arm intertwined with his.

"So tell us Lazarus, how'd you come back?"

"It was the most bizarre experience I've ever had." He paled. "One moment I'm looking up at Kori, total pain radiating through my body, and then the next moment I'm looking down at my dead body through Kori's eyes. I could feel everything, every breath, every beat of her heart." He swallowed thickly. "At first I thought I was just dreaming, but as the day progressed, I began to realize that I really was dead. I couldn't do anything though, only watch." He shifted a bit and then looked over to Kori. "Then I figured out a way to comfort Kori from inside. When she figured out that she hadn't really released me, her brother came and explained her origins. I saw it all, Egypt, my parent's death, I saw her memories. Then she released me from her. And that was all I remember before waking up in a cramped black space."

"In your grave." Raven filled in.

"Yeah. I thanked The Lord that the casket they put me in was thin wood, or else I would have suffocated and died again. I almost did too. I punched and slammed against that wood until it splintered, and then I dug my way out. Of course, other people were in the cemetery and ran in terror when they saw me crawl out of the ground. Especially those who saw me die." He put his head in his hands. "I felt like a monster. I couldn't run because I was so weak, and I wasn't able to speak. People pointed and screamed. I had never felt so hated before. All I wanted was to find Kori. That was the only thing I could think." He sighed. "And now I'm here."

Garfield simpered at his friend. "At least you found your way here."

"I only bumbled around for an hour." He rolled his shoulders.

"Well," Raven said as she stood up. "I can tell you are still very tired, and I'm sure you and Kori have a lot to talk about."

Victor took the hint. "Yeah, it's kinda late anyways. It's been a long day, so let's hit the hay."

"Okay! Have fun you two! I'm going to stay here for a little while and talk to my recently resurrected buddy!" Gar failed to catch the indication. Raven smacked him soundly in the head. "You know, suddenly, I feel very tired. I think I'll join them." He smiled sheepishly.

After the group left, the couple sat uncomfortably. New knowledge changed everything.

"So...you saw it all."

"You delivered my parents." He said solemnly.

"I did."

"And you saw that day. You saw my misery."

"I did."

"And you still watched over me all this time. You have all this privilege, all this power, and yet...you're here. Your life is miserable because of me."

"No it is not." She corrected. "It is Slaed's fault. And this time of misery on Earth does not matter. I knew what I was getting into. This time is just a vapor in eternity, I have the rest of my existence to live in pleasure."

"You did this for me?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

She smiled and crawled so she was in front of him. She then cupped his face and kissed him tenderly. A satin promise of an eternity spend together. "Because I love you, Richarde."

"Then, if that is so..." He wrapped his arms around her waist and looked deep into her emerald eyes. "Would you marry me?"

"Of course I shall." She pressed her forehead to his. "There is nowhere I would rather be, then with you."

That night, Richarde laid wide awake, staring at the ceiling. His arm was draped across the angel curled against his side, much like she had when he was sick that many months ago. Sleep eluded him as he observed the giant bell hanging above him. The edges glittered from the soft light of the fire. Inside was blacker then night. The shadows spiraled within and went on for eternity. As he looked up into that utter darkness, he felt a weight that made him uneasy. Slaed was not finished. They needed to leave. Now.

The next morning, Kori left with Victor to collect their breakfast. For a while they walked in silence. None of the stores in the square were open.

"How's he doing?"

"I see...absence in him. He is sad and lost often in his thoughts."

"I'm sorry." Victor simpered. "It must be hard for you."

"No, I believe I understand him better now. He is finally allowing himself to grieve."

"What do you mean?"

"All those years ago, he went to work trying to live after his parents died. Now he can finally get around to taking care of himself."

"I never thought of that...I always remembered him being the happy kid...I should have remembered that he was hurting."

"But he is healing now." She smiled.

On the other side of the square, Gar was hard at work juggling. Raven sat next to him on a bench and read.

"You know, Kori was telling me this morning that Richarde proposed to her." He spoke, not taking his eyes off the ball.

"Oh really? Good for him."

"And I was thinking..."

"Which we all know is hard for you."

He ignored her. "...I was thinking that...maybe you and I should get married."

She outright laughed. "Finally, you told a good joke." He looked at her with a hurt expression. "Oh, you're serious?"

"Completely. I've been telling you that I love you for a while now..."

"I always thought you were saying it in jest, just to annoy me."

"I never joke about love." He grinned. "So, how about it?"

She smirked. "Buy me dinner sometime and I'll think about it."

That evening, the crew gathered in the tower to eat dinner together. Upon entering the room, they found Richarde staring forlorn out the window.

"So fearless leader," Garfield spoke. "What's the plan?"

The girls started preparing the food as Victor set the table. Attention moved to Richarde when he did not answer for a long time.

"So...are we staying here then?" Victor asked.

"Revenge on your mind?" Raven added.

"Or perhaps you still are unsure yourself?"

The boy remained silent and kept his gaze out the window.

"I'm tired." He finally answered.

The team sighed.

"I'm tired of hiding." He continued. "Tired of saving and scraping. I'm tired of being the victim, being the scum of this god forsaken town. I'm tired of pretending like everything is okay, that life just moves on, when the fact of the matter is, I can't. I'm done with this place. I'm done with entertaining those Pharisees, and I'm done following Slaed's stupid laws. My friends..." He turned at looked at them hard. "I'm tired of doing nothing. It's time we left."

"But we don't have the money..." Gar sighed. "You only have enough for two."

"That is true, but not for long. Victor, I need to write a letter. Pack your bags, when I get my strength back, we're going to Italy."

True to his word, the next day Richarde started training to get back up to par. When Kori woke up, he was doing push-ups in the main room. Her heart swelled with pride.

Later that afternoon, the couple went on a walk through town, Richarde used a cane. The people they passed stared in awe, knowing full well that the man walking in front of them should be very dead. Silence stretched out among them as the oblivious pair walked passed in merriment.

"Mr. Serieux!" A young voice cried. "Mr. Serieux!" Adelé came running at full speed and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his stomach. "I thought you were dead…again!" She cried.

"Oh Adelé..." He patted her head, "I did die, but now I am alive again."

She looked at Koriandre. "You saved her too, just like you promised."

"I never go back on a promise." He replied.

Adelé embraced the angel as well. The townsfolk witnessed this and their fears dissipated, replaced with relief and wonder.

"I shall go back to the church and see if Victor has lunch prepared for us. Please stay and talk with your friends, they seem to have missed you." She smiled.

"I'll be there soon."

"Richarde!" A girl screamed, "my darling you're alive!"

"Look over here Mr. Serieux!" Another called.

"I love you!"

"Ladies! I'm sorry, I'm taken. But you are all very charming, it will be easy to find another." He smiled.

They swooned.

A black carriage approached the crowd, but most did not notice. "What is the meaning of this congestion?" An angry voice spoke.

Richarde knew that voice. He had to get out of there but the people prevented him from leaving. The judge weaved his way through the crowd.

"I don't believe it..." He stopped as his eyes grew wide, looking at the acrobat. "A man once dead is now back from hell! How are you still alive?! I was told you were buried! I saw your grave!" He roared. "You are ruining everything!"

The crowd went silent.

Richarde's heart was calm, comforted from his experience. "What have I ruined? Tell me Judgy. What are you trying to accomplish?"

"I rid this town of the filth that littered it! You were the last piece of trash to dispose of! You are like the stain that will never come out!"

"Judge Slaed, if you are hurting all these people, destroying all these families, are you not filth yourself?"

"The ends justify the means, it does not matter what I do as long as it is for the greater good."

"How very utilitarian of you."

The Judge growled in anger and kicked the cane out from under the boy. Richarde's knees gave out and he landed on the ground with a 'oof'. The crowd backed up, not wanting to get involved.

"You demon..." The older man kicked him. "You're only here because you weren't human in the first place!" He picked up a rock and threw it at Richarde, hitting him square in the back.

"No!" Kori called as she ran into the scene. "Do not hurt him!"

"Out of my way you harlot!"

Kori narrowed her eyes. "Watch your tongue, 'Master'."

The judge looked at the people. "Do you not see it?! Evil is among us! It is up to us to cast them out! Who is with me?!"

No one moved.

Kori approached the Judge and looked at him in pity. "You speak with a silver tongue, ready to convince a crowd. But your words leave a bitter taste and a sickening feeling. The real evil, is inside of you."

He stepped back as if he had been stabbed.

"You have not noticed, but it is growing inside of you like a weed. It is draining your soul and choking you out. You are a disillusioned old fool!" She reached out and clutched the collar of his robes. As she spoke, her eyes glowed like a foreign light. Her hair ignited like the fire in the pit. The hazy image of her ashen wings appeared like specters behind her. "So do you see now? Your actions have caused nothing but sufferings, and you blasphemed against The Lord you claimed to serve! You are dead Slaed de Wilson! Dead in spirit if not in flesh!"

The judge grabbed her forearms tightly in fear. "No! It-it cannot be! I am righteous! I am better then him! Better then all of them!"

"Who has told you so? Yourself? The devil?"

His eyes grew wide in fear. "No! Koriandre! Don't let me die! Please! I fed you, clothed you, taught you! Please! You owe it to me!"

"I owe you nothing."

Images of men with faces obscured by robes clouded his mind. "Mea culpa."

"But I will help you, if you will face the consequences."

"Anything!"

"Then you will see what your sin has reduced you to." Her hands glowed green like her eyes. The sky was a clear blue, not a cloud in the sky, but regardless, a green lightning bolt broke from heaven and struck the top spire of the church, sending a splintering sound across the square. All at once, the windows of Notre Dame blew out and rained down above the city, flooding the streets in colored flecks of once sacred art. Koriandre didn't even flinch. The death bell up in the tower rang loud and clear, but everyone knew no one was ringing it.

Slaed shouted in pain, gasping for breath as his skin paled and withered. His hair turned white and his voice turned to dust. His hands crippled into hooks from arthritis as his eyes bulged out of his sagging lids. All that was left of the judge was a scrawny, sad old man.

"Step forward, you who would care still for this man."

For a long time, no one moved, but then a servant who was tending the carriage came and helped Slaed to stand.

"There is still much to change, but you have all the head knowledge, you must just apply it to your heart."

The man nodded, tears leaking from his eyes. He gripped her hands in a loving way, like he never had before. "Thank you my dear...thank you."

Richarde watched the exchange in awe. There was no recognition in this man from the other. Soon he turned to him and gripped his shoulder.

"Take care of my little girl." His voice was soft.

Richarde nodded, unable to speak.

"Come along John, I've bothered these kids too long."

As the judge climbed into the carriage, Kori intertwined her hand with her beloved's. Finally, their struggle was over.


	12. Epilogue

One Year Later

"Check."

"Che cazzo!"

A wealthy Italian nobleman was playing chess in the parlor with a young French novelist. Currently, he was losing.

"Watch your temper sir." His butler, Alfredo, called from the kitchen.

The man rolled his eyes and made his move. "Your turn."

"Checkmate."

"Porca troia!" The man threw up his arms and leaned back in his seat. "That's eighteen bloody games in a row!"

"Are you going to demand a rematch? Or are you going to challenge Koriandre to the game?"

The angel looked over from her seat between the two. "I would not recommend it. No one has beaten me yet. Not even Raven."

The man sighed. "I think I'll just wait until the jester comes home to gain my confidence back."

The girls chuckled.

"Dinner is prepared Master Bruno." Alfredo came in and bowed.

"Thank you Alfredo," Bruno smiled.

Halfway through dinner, the front door opened and a loud, "we're home!" echoed through the house.

Kori was the first one out of her chair, knocking it over in the process. She bolted into the room and ran to her husband. "Richarde!" She bowled him over.

"I missed you too." He said with a chuckle. The rest of the family came into the room. "Welcome home." Raven smirked.

"Baby! Darling! It's been three days! Let me kiss you!" Gar reached for her.

She held up a hand. "No way, who knows where that mouth has been?"

Victor nudged Richarde. "I sense another wedding soon."

At the word 'wedding' Kori grew sentimental. Living in a church, she had witnessed and rang the bells for multiple weddings, but she never imagined having one of her own. Not until she met Richarde at least. The ceremony was conducted at dusk, when the sky was painted a vibrant red. Richarde wore a suit that Bruno had gotten made for him. Kori wore a simple white dress, one that almost touched the floor. Blue ribbon laced the neckline and tied her hair back.

Victor was allowed to conduct the ceremony, despite his recently revoked status. Raven acted as maid of honor, and Garfield as best man.

As per tradition, the announcement of marriage was posted on the church door to notify the town if anyone would object. Richarde and Kori both expected the ceremony to be private, not having close contact to many in the city. To their surprise, the church was full, with the rest of Paris waiting outside.

A rumor spoke of Slaed watching from the balcony. A genuine smile on his face.

"So how was the trip?" Bruno brought the angel out of her reverie.

"Oh, Venice was beautiful. You were right about the master craftsmanship. Those woodworkers know their stuff."

"So did you get it?"

"That and more, come out and look!" Garfield cheered.

The group headed out the door to find a double sized carriage sitting in the drive. It was ornate with 'The Titans' painted on the side. Two horses hooked up to the front to pull it.

"Oh my...goodness..." Kori went speechless.

"I thought we agreed on a simple carriage." Raven raised an eyebrow.

"We did, but those Italians can be so persuasive..."

She sighed. "This is why I should have come along, as manager; I could have been beneficial to financial decisions."

"Too late now! You gotta check this thing out!" Gar jumped and went to the door. "It's so awesome! And there's a ton of room!"

Resigned, the girls entered their new home. The coach was divided into three different segments by curtains. One large hammock was on the far wall, a small one in the corner, and two stacked hammocks on another wall.

"The big one is ours," Richarde told Kori. "The one in the corner is Raven's and the two over there are Victor's and Gar's."

"Nice set up." Raven acknowledged, looking out the window. "So...'The Titans' huh?"

"The Titans are from Greek mythology, they are giants, masters of different elements and revered." Kori explained.

"I thought it sounded cool." Richarde shrugged.

"And have you figured out what we all are doing?"

Garfield rubbed his hands together. "Raven, you get to be behind the scenes. You collect money and manage our shows."

"Yes, I know, what about everyone else?"

"I'll be the master of ceremonies. In charge of announcing us." Victor explained.

"Makes sense." Then she looked over to Kori. "What about the angel?"

Richarde smiled, but didn't answer her. "Hon, I got a present for you. Why don't you put it on in the carriage?" He gave her a parcel.

"I love presents!" She squealed, snatching up the parcel. She pecked him on the cheek, hopped into the coach, and locked the door.

"Whatcha get her?"

"You'll see." He rubbed his knuckles. "But I think this will be the crowning feature of our show."

"Are you going to have her dancing and singing again?"

"That'll be a part of it, but anyone can dance and sing."

"Are you going to have her bring people back to life?"

He didn't even smirk. "No."

"Ringing bells?"

"Carving wooden figures?"

"Beating people like crazy in chess?"

"Standing and looking pretty?"

"Guys!" He interrupted. "Just wait, she'll be out in a second and we'll show you. We've been practicing."

"Oh! Is that what I hear you guys doing at night?"

There was a long stretch of silence where the acrobat turned progressively red. "N-no, that's something else."

Victor snickered at his friend's stupidity while Raven just bit her lip.

"Oh...oh! OOOHHH!" The light bulb finally clicked in Garfield's tiny mind. "...never mind."

Kori stepped out of the carriage. "How do I look?" She was garbed in a purple suit much like Richarde's. The color was rich and deep like royalty. The neck line was cross shoulder, and trimmed with silver. A silver sash decorated her waist.

Richarde smiled and pulled her close to him. "You look beautiful."

"Exquisite." Victor followed up.

"Very nice." Raven smirked.

"You look fine!" Everyone turned and looked at the jester. "What?"

"So, are you going to show us now?"

"You wish to observe our routine?" Kori smiled. Without another word, she effortlessly hoisted her husband into to air where he flipped. Again and again, she threw him into the sky so he could perform fantastic flips and twists. At the end of the routine, he balanced on her hand with one arm. The small audience clapped.

"Fantastic job Master and Mistress Serieux." Alfredo smiled coming out of the villa. "I saw your performance through the window. Excellent work."

"Grazie, Alfredo."

"I can see it now! We'll be rich! The whole world will know us! Our names will be legendary!"

"Relax Gar, we're not doing this forever."

"And I believe you will not have to after all." Alfredo spoke up. "This came for both of you by page boy. Seems important."

Richarde took the envelope. "What did you do? Hold it up to the light?"

"Heaven forbid, Master Richarde. Do you think I have no self respect? I used steam."

Richarde chuckled. "Grazie Alfredo."

"What is it?"

"I don't know." He shrugged as he opened it. His eyes scanned over the letter that was inside. "What's that word?" He nudged Kori.

She observed where he was pointing. "Bequeath, it means to give."

"Ah...wait..." He scanned the rest of the parchment. "Holy Last Will and Testament!"

"What? What is that?"

The rest of the team gathered around. "A will? Whose?"

"It looks like Slaed's, but why would he..."

"He was Kori's legal guardian."

"But she didn't have any papers."

"Doesn't mean he can't leave anything to her. May I?" Raven took the letter.

"Richarde, you know how I am with legal matters, what is going on?"

"Slaed...is dead."

"Oh..."

"But you know, when people die, they leave all their wealth and possessions behind."

"Yes."

"They write these Last Will and Testaments to show who they want to give their stuff to."

"And if they have no Will and Testament?"

"Then someone comes in and sells all the belongings."

"So, we have received Slaed's Will, does that mean he left us something?"

"Hard to believe, but you were his only heir."

"No, that is incorrect. Slaed has three blood children. Each with a different mother."

"Whoa! What?!" Victor jumped in on the conversation. "He had three kids with three different women?! How did no one know about this?"

"He went to great lengths to keep it a secret. I met one when I was still little, his name was Joseph. Slaed had him enter the clergy and one of his duties was to check in on me. Fortunately for him, he ran away about a month later. He was a very sweet boy."

"Well, he was his father's favorite biological child." Raven provided, finished with the document. "But as for the favorite over all...he could have left his assets equality between the four. But...just let me read it to you. In the name of God, Amen. On 17 May, 1514, in the 12th year of the reign of Louis XII, I, Slaed de Wilson, citizen and Judicial Vicar of the city of Paris, being of sound mind and memory, make and set out my testament concerning my moveable possessions, in the following manner.

"First, I bequeath, my eldest son, Grant Wilson, 40 livres. 10s.4d. and pardon from the sin that binds him if he should pray for my soul.

"I bequeath to my second son, Joseph de Wilson, my purchased seat in the catholic tribunal. Also 60 livre, 20s. If he shall forgive my transgressions.

I bequeath my youngest child, Rose le Noir, and her husband, Salam le Noir, 40 livre, 50s. 35d. if she grows to be as beautiful as her mother.

"The remainder of all my moveable goods and chattels and whatsoever of my estate, after my debts have been paid and my testament fulfilled, I wish and bequeath to my charge and ward, Koriandre, and her husband, Richarde Serieux. May the sum of my wealth, 87381 livre, 345s. 200d. be a gift onto them if they forgive my sins and pray for my soul.

"In this I attest to, on the aforementioned date, by my executioner."

Richarde the boys stared in shock at the reader.

"So, what did we receive?" Kori asked timidly.

"Darling, you know what my savings were, correct?"

"No." She stated. "The concept of currency is mostly lost on me."

"I had 2000 livre to my name. That was enough for two people to travel the world."

"Yes."

"Just his money, not his estate of anything else, is 44 times my wealth. Are you starting to get it?"

"I believe so...after we have done our tour, we can then retire to a villa in Austria as you promised?"

"Absolutely."

"Sounds like fun." Raven smirked.

"Count me in!"

"Let's do it!"

Richarde stood proud before his friends and family, a smile gracing his face. "I can't begin to explain how thankful I am for all of you. The friendships that you have given me have changed my life. I wouldn't rather be here with anyone else then you guys, you're my family. Over the next year or so, things may be hard. We may be ridiculed or ignored, but as long as we support each other, we'll be fine."

"Aw man, you're making me cry!" Victor sniffed.

"Pack your bags and get a good night's sleep, tomorrow our new lives begin!"

And they lived happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr!


End file.
